


Tarnished

by AnneValkyria



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Multi, Nightmares, Scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneValkyria/pseuds/AnneValkyria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: “I'd always covered up my scars, ashamed of the bite marks that marred my skin. But this little human girl wore hers with her head held high as a big 'f*** you' to the world. I felt a strange kinship with her and knew I have to keep her safe so she could be with the wolf that possesses scars deeper than both of us, but lies beneath the surface of his russet skin.” (no imprint) Rated M for reasons. OOC AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way**

**A/N:** To any reader that feel the need to correct me just keep in mind that I write fiction, not fact and we’ll get along just fine. Any questions you might have is, of course, welcome.

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**Beta:** hannah_perry85

TRIGGER WARNING: This story may have what some people consider hard limits. If you are concerned, feel free to pm me and I would be happy to talk to you about it. I definitely don't want anybody uncomfortable reading this.

For those who cares: I don’t see Kristen Stewart as Bella/Izzy. Nope, no way. In this fic I see Rachel Bilson.

There’s  pictures on Pinterest https://www(dot)pinterest(dot)com(slash)AnneValkyria(slash)tarnished-a-paulbella-fanfic(slash) (if it makes it easier it’s under the board name Tarnished a Paul/Bella fanfic.) There are several other characters that I’ve chosen different faces for. Whenever I post a chapter I will post one or more pics on pinterest. It should be open to the public so you don’t need to have an account, or follow me/the board if you don’t want to. I’ve changed almost everyone, so it might be worth checking out.

*This story started out with the title Scarred, but since there are more stories out there with the same name I changed it to Tarnished. I could’ve gone with Disfigured, Ruined or a countless other titles, but since an awesome woman over on Tricky Raven made me a gorgeous banner the title Tarnished stuck

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_Prologue_

“ _Time heals all wounds. But not this one. Not yet.”_

― Marie Lu, Champion

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_Izzy_

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_Cold._

_Quiet._

_Dark._

_Can’t see. Can’t hear. Can’t_ move.

_The Beast’s hot breath scorching against my naked skin, burning my flesh down to the bone._

_Why can’t I move?_

_Where am I?_

_Cold._

_Dark._

_Dank._

_Light._

_Someone screams._

_Too bright._

_Can’t see._

_The Beast’s hands leave my body._

_Relief turns to despair._

_Inhuman growls._

_“I-sa-bel-la,”_

_The Monster claws through my cheek._

_Tearing, digging._

_Deeper and deeper._

_Can’t scream._

_Can’t move._

_Tears mix with blood._

_The smell dizzying._

_Burning._

_Help me._

_Help me!_

_HELP ME!_

**  
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I bolted upright with such force that I tumbled off the bed and hit the floor with an ‘oumf’. The weak morning light shone through the window, casting a hazy glow over me.  My eyes darted wildly around, and I fought to make my limbs move until I realized that I was alone, in my room, and that my arms and legs were just asleep. I relaxed slightly, knowing that I was safe.

Safe.

A dangerous word that gives a false sense of security.

No one was ever ‘safe’. There was no such thing as ‘safe’.

The reason I was awake continued to vibrate on my dresser. I sluggishly reached out with my limp arm, trying to knock it down beside me so I could answer the call.

The glaring red numbers on alarm clock read 6 am.

“Time to get up anyway,” I grumbled and tried to press my thumb in the slot to flip open the phone.

I didn’t bother to check caller-ID. Only two people had this number and one of them was sleeping in his bedroom down the hall.

“’lo?” I rasped. “Did you call to wish my good luck on the first day of school?”

“ _You awake?_ ” the soft accent is barely noticeable in the carefully spoken words.

“No, I’m talking in my sleep,” I deadpanned.

Scarlet’s melodic laughter came through the other end of the line. “ _Liar._ ”

“Whatever,” I shimmied my hips until I was sitting up, my legs still  numb. The uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles were a sure sign they were waking up.

“ _Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?_ ”

I rolled my eyes, “No, I have forgotten since the last time you told me, which was what, four hours ago?”

“ _Are you still sure you can handle it?_ ”

“I said I could, didn’t I?” I snapped. We’d had this conversation too many times lately and I was sick of it.

“ _Are you sure? There are always other…_ ”

“Scar, we talked about this. I’ll take care of it,” I gritted, quickly losing my patience.

“ _I trust you, Izzy_ ” Scarlet insisted. “ _And maybe after this you’ll decide…_ ”

My eyes started to burn, I didn’t want to hear it. Not again.  “I’m giving you one year. One!” I traced the scars that covered the left side of my face with trembling fingers. “You promised me!”

“ _Okay, okay. One year_.”

The floorboard outside of my door creaked, signaling that Charlie was up. “I have to go, I’ll call you tonight!”

**A/N: There will be three point-of-views in this fic. Izzy’s, Jasper’s and Paul’s.**

*** Anne’s school of the meaning of English words in Swedish; lesson one: Hot in Swedish means threat. Pronunciation something like hoot**

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	2. Tarnished - Chapter 1

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

 

**Beta: hannah_perry85**

 

**A/N: To any reader that feel the need to correct me just keep in mind that I write fiction, not fact and we’ll get along just fine. Any questions you might have is, of course, welcome.**

 

  *      **I’m changing the timeline somewhat in this fic. For example, Izzy is starting her senior year not arriving in the middle of junior.**
  *      **Paul is twenty years old instead of sixteen and all of the wolves have already phased.**
  *         **This chapter has been rewritten about a million times, and I’m still not entirely happy with the result. But if I ever want to post this it will have to do… Oh, and I might be exaggerating the number of rewrites, but not by much**



 * I wasn't supposed to post this until wednesday, but I'm having serious withdrawls and since not that many have even seen it here I thought I could update a little early...

 

**Still with me?**

 

_“I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.”_  
― [L.M. Montgomery](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5350.L_M_Montgomery), [ _Anne of Green Gables_](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/3464264)

_“It ain't what they call you, it's what you answer to.”_    
― [W.C. Fields](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/82951.W_C_Fields)

 

 

Jasper Hale

 

 

“ _Jazz_!?!” I tried my best not to flinch when the high-pitched shrieking reached my sensitive ears, knowing any movement would stir the water and cause ripples to reach the smooth surface, thus giving myself away. With my enhanced hearing abilities, even submerged at the bottom of the lake I couldn’t escape the sound of her voice. “ _Where_ are _you_? _Jazz_!?!”

Water filled my mouth as I chuckled soundlessly. Here I was, a grown man at the age of one hundred and sixty one, and I was hiding from my wife.

Living with the Cullens had taken some getting used to. Although over fifty years had passed since we had joined their family, it could be overwhelming at times and I had to get away for a while.

Sharing a house with two mated couples and a moody, broody, spoiled seventeen year old know-it-all; not to mention my overexcited, overenthusiastic, overactive, overachieving sprite of a wife was draining my energy. A few days every other month I needed to spend some time by myself, to regain my strength. Alice hated it. She thrived when she was the center of attention and couldn’t understand where I was coming from.

I felt everything they felt as if their emotions were my own, every single second of _every single day_.

First there was Emmet, an overgrown man-child whose dominating moods were hungry and horny, often at the same time. He was the family clown and loved pulling pranks on everyone.  But despite his devil may care attitude and seemingly thick-headed and simpleminded thinking, he was one of the smartest men I knew. He loved his mate Rosalie with an all consuming passion that left the rest of us feeling invisible.

Rose on the other hand, appeared to be the opposite of the cheerful and mischievous Emmet. At least, that was what she wanted us to think.

She believed that any display of emotions were a sign of weakness and only showed the people around her what she wanted them to see. Many thought of her as cold, callous and heartless, but the truth wasn’t as cut and dry as it seemed. She had never gotten over the attack that lead up to her change, and held the people around her, except for Emmett and me, at arm’s length for fear of getting hurt. She didn’t trust easily, but if you earned it she was fiercely loyal and would lay down her life for the ones she loved. Rose could be as thorny as her sweet-smelling namesake and only really felt comfortable in her own domain, the garage, tinkering with one of her cars.

With similar coloring, blond hair and pale skin, we often pretended to be siblings in the towns we settled down in. As the years passed we had grown to treat each other that way.  That didn't stop her from trying, and usually succeeding, in keeping part of herself hidden from me.

Rosalie, Edward and I all resented being forced to interact with humans. But while my aversion came from being bombarded with additional feelings that didn’t belong to me, and Edward’s from being forced to listen in on the thoughts of strangers; hers stemmed from a burning jealousy. She would never experience the joys of motherhood, of having a family she could raise and watch grow and expand. She was correct when she described us as cold and unchanging, and as strong as our feelings were, Rose's maternal instinct and want were her strongest.

There was no doubting her love for Emmett, but she would give him up in a heartbeat to be able to be human again and have a family of her own.

Edward, the first person Carlisle changed and the family’s Golden Boy, was judgmental, insecure, impatient and overly confident all at the same time. Being able to read minds without any way to switch it off had made him resentful, jaded and lose what little hope for humanity he might’ve had before he was turned. I couldn’t say I blamed him, there was just some things you didn’t want or need to know about the people you went to school with, waited in line with at the post office or the salesperson who rang in your purchases.

Carlisle, the head of the family, worked as Chief of Staff at the hospital in Forks and exhibited nothing but compassion and tenderness for the much frailer species. He wanted to save lives instead of taking them, thusgoing against our true nature. He was a healer, not a killer.

It seemed to be working out for him as he had only tasted human blood four times; when he changed Emmett, Rosalie, Edward and his mate, Esme.

Esme, just as Carlisle, was passionate about saving people. She was involved in a number of organizations, many which she had started herself. From feeding the homeless to cancer research; building homes in Africa and rebuilding communities after disasters to Doctors Without Borders, Esme had her hands in it all, donating to many charities, albeit anonymously.They were both as close to saints as someone like us ever would be, negating Edward’s claim that we were soulless monsters.

They were kind and empathetic people who cared deeply about all of their ‘children’ and were always supportive and sympathetic when my bloodlust had gotten the best of me, or the times I struggled with my gift.

I knew they meant well, but there were days I felt as if I would choke on their pity.

It made me feel powerless and weak. I detested my lack of control. In the past I had ruled over several armies of newborn vampires without breaking a sweat. But now, thanks to my change in diet, I couldn’t even stop the disgusting hormonal ridden teenage boys in Forks High from creaming their pants at the sight of Rosalie… or Edward, depending on preference. Most of my strength went to keeping myself from drinking every human in my vicinity dry. There wasn’t enough left to handle my abilities, too. 

The Cullens were nice people, but sometimes I just needed a break from it all.

More often than not the urges would pass before fully taking hold. Alice never approved, which explained why I had to hide at the bottom of a lake.

My own feelings were hidden under the weight of the family’s, sometimes making it hard to tell the difference between what I felt without any outside influence, especially when it came to my wife. _Her_ dominating emotion was her love for me. It surrounded me and wrapped around me like a thick blanket on a cold winter’s night. We were never far from each other, but whenever we were… I rubbed my knuckles on the spot over my cold, dead heart, trying to soothe the dull phantom pain.  


“ _Jazz_?!? _It’s the first day of school, we don’t want to be late_!” Alice hollered, her voice sounding  closer. She advanced on me, her frustration and anger swept over me like a sticky film and I fought against the effect it had on me, trying to keep her emotions from taking over.

The clear water turned murky as I dug my fingers into the sand and the fish that swam around me scurried away.

My wife, having no recollection of her human life had taken it upon herself to create new ones. She had woken up alone with no memory but the strong conviction that her name was Alice and she was in her mid to late teens. Albeit petite, nearly flat chested and lacking feminine curves in the hips, thighs and ass department she still possessed a maturity and after much consideration she herself decided that she was 17 years old. As the eternal teenager she chose to live as such and our shared bedroom resembled something straight out of any teenage dream. Before meeting her I didn’t know there were that many shades of pink, let’s not forget the boy band posters on the walls, the variations of makeup that she didn’t use or the subscriptions to Teen Vogue, Seventeen, Cosmo Girl and several others. I prefered more earthy tones and dark wood, but it made Alice happy, and that was the only thing I cared about.

Her favorite part about relocating and starting over in a new place was enrolling in a different school. She loved everything having to do with High School; the cliques, the gossip, the drama and the occasional love triangles, even though she never took part of it herself, and never understood why I hated it so much. The fact that I was nineteen when I was turned, which in the eighteen hundreds bordered on middle-aged, and had no desire to relive my teenage years over and over again, went right over her head. That was part of the reason I never told her how I felt about the nickname she’d chosen for me. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings, and that was exactly what would happen if she found out. 

Without any warning her mood changed and I was flooded with her excitement, and I started to look forward to the first dayof senior year despite having lost count of just how many ‘first days’ I’d had a long time ago.

After pushing myself up onto my feet I walked through the water with little resistance. When my head broke the surface her scent reached my nose and my jeans, already soaked and tight from my impromptu bath, tightened even further as my cock hardened and pushed against the button fly.

She always smelled so clean; like pine and citrus. I hurried my stepsuntil I reached the shore where my wife waited for me, dying to get my hands on her.

As always she was impeccably dressed from head to toe, looking as if she came straight from the runways in Paris or Milan.

Her raven hair was carefully arranged into artful spikes. There wasn’t much she could do with the short cut she had when she was changed, but she liked to experiment. This was a better look than the extensions she used last year.

The stunning burgundy jersey top with its sequin encrusted cape collar complimented her boyish figure, the black tapered pants made her shapely legs appear longer than they truly were and on her feet was a pair of T-strap platforms with a stiletto heel in the same color as her top, adding at least four inches to her meager 4-feet-9. A black pearl tree stands choker with a cameo of Artemis, the Greek goddess of hunt decorated her graceful neck and a D’Orne bracelet with black pearls and diamond encrusted oval links adorned her left wrist.

The black sheepskin moto jacket, with pleated shoulders, puff sleeves and a slant zipper that hung over her arm combined with the minaudiere with its lucite exterior, broken stripe print and golden rope chain shoulder strap completed the outfit.

Her tiny hands were placed on her bony hips and she tapped her foot, a sure sign of her annoyance. Despite her irritated body language **,** a wide smile spread over her thin lips. “Change is coming, Jazz,” she did a little pirouette, her melodic laughter loud and clear in the morning air. “I can _feel_ it.”

Her almost childlike enthusiasm was contagious and I felt my lips pull up into an answering smile. “Sounds great, dear. Do you know what it is?”

A small pucker appeared between the perfect arches of her brows. “No.”

“Do you know if it’s good or bad then?” I patted my pockets, making sure everything was still where it was supposed to be and not at the bottom of the lake. I’d had theforesight to leave my phone at home otherwise it would have been ruined beyond repair.  

“No,” she pouted. “It’s not an exact science, you know. I don’t always get a clear vision of _what_ ’s going to happen, I just know that _something_ will.”

I leaned down to give her a kiss, but she jerked away from me, scowling. “Jasper Hale, don’t you dare touch me! Do you have any idea what water would do to this fabric? Hurry home and get ready for school. I don’t want to be late on my first day.”

If there was anything I loathed more than the nickname _Jazz_ , it was the name Hale. I had been a Whitlock for over a hundred years before meeting the Cullens and I had planned on being a Whitlock for a hundred more. But the second I stopped attacking every human within a ten mile radius they enrolled me in High School, and because Rosalie and I posed as siblings, all in the name of ‘blending in’, it was decided that we would take her name as both of ours. Heaven forbid that the great Rosalie Hale would ever use someone else’s last name. Even when she’d married Emmett she had forced him to take the name Hale instead of changing hers to Cullen or McCarty as was his birth name.

Alice on the other hand hated the name Whitlock, but at least she had a reason for it. She didn’t need another reminder of my past, God knew there was enough without it.

 

*

 

When I exited the bathroom after a quick shower there was an outfit thoughtfully laid out on the bed; a pair of tailored charcoal grey chinos, a matching turtleneck and a pair of sandcastle beige loafers.

The shirt was a godsend. I couldn’t do anything about the marks on my face but it helped cover the more noticeable of the scars on my throat. More than sixty percent of my body was marred with jagged, slightly raised teeth marks, remnants of the life I lead before meeting Alice. Shoulders, neck and arms were the largest problem areas. It was a life I’d spent the past fifty odd years trying to forget, but every time I passed by any sort of reflective surface the memories came rushing back with a vengeance. The ache in my chest flickered to life and died just as quickly.

After getting dressed and using a thick toothed brush to straighten out my naturally wavy hair I had just enough time to grab the sandy suede jacket that went with the loafers and my dark grey messenger bag before someone - most likely Emmett - leaned on the horn of the Volvo, and didn’t lay off it until I walked out of the house.

“Nice outfit,” Rosalie snorted. “Have you graduated from student to teacher this year?? All that is missing is the tweed jacket.”

The statuesque beauty looked flawless as always dressed in white from top to bottom, her signature color. “I see you’re going with Bitchy Ice Queen this year, too.”

She tossed her long platinum blonde hair with natural honeyed highlights over her shoulder and smirked, “I make it work, don’t you think?”

Rose and I often bickered like true siblings. She was the one in our family I felt close to, except for my wife of course. She was brutally honest, sometimes to a fault. You had to respect that, even if she had an abnormal attachment to her last name. “Yes, no one does bitchy quiet like you.” I chuckled when she flipped me off

“Are you done?” Edward growled, glaring at Rose and me. “We have to get going if we don’t want to be late.”

Although I had gotten over my jealousy of Alice and Edward’s close relationship that had plagued me the first decade, I still didn’t get along with my youngest adoptive brother. I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly, he just rubbed me the wrong way.

I opened my mouth to snap back, but Alice beat me to it. “Yes, let’s go,” she said as she slid into the backseat, her petite body shaking with anticipation. “Hurry up. We’re seniors.”

 

 *

Four hours later we sat at our usual table in the cafeteria, pretending to eat the disgusting looking concoctionthe school tried to pulloff as food. A loud cacophony of voices and the sounds of people eatingresonated inside of the room. Instead of the usual inane rendition of ‘I know what you did last summer’, everyone was talking about the new student who just moved to Forks to live with her father..

“I didn’t know Chief Swan had a kid,” Emmet hummed behind the burger he was holding.

“Why would you?” Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Do you usually make it a habit of knowing everything about the good people of Forks?”

“No, I just think that’s something we should know, you know?” He shrugged.

“Have you seen her yet?” Alice looked seconds away from bouncing on her chair at the prospect of getting the latest gossip.

Glancing around discretely, my curiosity piqued, I tried to spot the new girl. Since most people chose to _leave_ Forks, someone actually choosing to move here was admittedly pretty big news. 

“No, but I heard her face is all fucked up,” Emmet offered through a bite of his burger. He wiped his face with a napkin in order to disguise the fact that he was really just spitting it out.

“Disgusting,” Rosalie curled her upper lip and scrunched up her nose, either because of Emmet’s poor table manners or the unfortunate looks of Chief Swan’s daughter. With her it was always hard to tell.

Alice huffed impatiently, “How about you, Edward? You must’ve seen her in peoples’ thoughts, right?”

He stiffened in his chair and a mix of anger and loathing flared up briefly and then died just as quickly,hisfamous control coming into work. “Their thought are… vile.” If a vampire’s intestines were functional our whole table would’ve been covered in digested animal blood. “They are all….vile.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything,” Alice hissed. “I want to know what they’re thinking about her. Tell me, Edward,” she tapped her foot against the linoleum floor. “ _Now!_ ”

He looked pained, but did as she asked. No one went against her, what Alice wanted, Alice got. “The girls are their usual shallow, spiteful selves,” he muttered. His eyes were squeezed shut tightly as if concentrating on a particular thought. “None of them see her as a threat. They all want to be the first to befriend her, despite her unfortunate physical appearance, just to be able to say they were first to do it, and they all call her names behind her back.” He fisted his hands and pressed them against his eyes. His rage filled me as I waited to hear the rest. “The boys on the other hand…” he gritted between clenched teeth. “The boys are _appalling_. They pity her for her ruined face while fantasizing about her body. They have managed to convince themselves that she will be grateful for their attention and are taking bets on how far she will go to show her gratitude. I’ve heard the phrase ‘butter face’ more than once and several of the miserable maggots suggested the use of a paper bag.”

Rage switched to boredom as my wife shrugged, “Oh well, I’m sure she can handle it.”

Suddenly whispers spread throughout the room. One by one, the students stopped talking, stopped eating and all heads turned towards the doors. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“What’s happening?” Alice hissed into my ear, almost hanging over me to see what all the fuss was about. “Is it her? Is she as hideous as they say? I want to _see_!!!” she whined and crawled on top of the table.

Despite the gossip and rumors that had been circling around the school all day, nothing could’ve prepared me for the girl calmly entering the cafeteria with a confident stride. 

Even from where I was sitting it was easy to see that she was on the short side, probably no more than a couple of inches taller than Alice, but that was where the similarities ended. Where Alice was hard angles and sharp edges,this girl was soft curves and feminine features. She had a body that could make both young boys and grown men weep with desire, and women seethe with envy.

A heady mixture of the sweetness of arousal and the bitterness of jealousy permeated the air, rendering everyone stupid. I remained unaffected, indifferent and detached. The sway of her hips, the swell of her ass and the curve of her breasts all created a compelling combination that had the human males salivating. The muted thud from Rosalie’s palm hitting the back of Emmett's head quickly followed by his muttered apology suggested that humans weren’t the only ones caught under her spell. My interest was merely the appreciation of the female anatomy. No one could hold a candle to my beautiful wife. With her by my side I had everything I needed.

Isabella’s jet blackclothes both complimented her figure and enhancedher pale complexion, making the skin on her neck and along her collarbone look almost translucent with its visible light blue veins.

An unfamiliar sense of awe coursed through me as I took in her face. Three thick, uneven, puce colored ridges marred the otherwise nearly flawless skin on the left side of her face, from her temple to the bridge of her nose, over her cheekbone and down to her chin. The marks fell just barely shy of the corner of her full lips.

Hiding my scars had become a habit over the decades, but this girl wore hers with pride. Instead of wearing her midnight brown hair down to cover the disfigured cheek, she pulled it back into a high ponytail as if saying ‘ _fuck you_ ’ to anyone who dared to stare at her the wrong way.

But what shocked me were her hooded opaque eyes, framed with long, thick lashes. She kept them locked straight ahead, ignoring everyone and everything around her.

Never in my existence had I seen eyes like that. It was like looking deep into her soul and coming up empty. Not even in the vacant and glassy stares of my victims had I seen anything like it.

I tested, probed, and searched; trying to analyze her emotions and found… nothing.

She walked with her back straight and her head held high, the skin at the side of her mouth stretched taut, pulling her lips into a constant half smirk. After grabbing a tray of food, she let her gaze circle  the room before she zeroed in on the empty table next to ours.

I vaguely heard Emmett curse, Alice gasp and Rosalie growl, but I couldn’t look away from Isabella.

If I hadn’t been a vampire, I never would’ve noticed the subtle pause, as she passed us, before continuing on to her own table, shaking her head and muttering to herself. “ _Five_? There are _five_ of  them? Wait until Scar hears about this. _Fuck_. Where is Buffy when you need her?"

 

 

 

  *         **I don’t have to explain who Buffy is, do I?**
  *         **Oh, and before I forget; Every cliffhanger in this story is all Caystar’s fault. So blame her, not me.**



 

*** Anne’s school of English words in Swedish; lesson two:**

**For you who don’t already know this, the word ‘Kiss’ in Swedish means ‘Pee’, same pronunciation and everything.**

 

  *         Next update will be August 26th. See ya then



 


	3. Chapter 2

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

 

 **Beta: hannah_perry85** she’s amazing, any possible mistakes are all mine and obviously on purpose

 

**A/N: To any reader that feels the need to correct me just keep in mind that I write fiction, not fact and we’ll get along just fine. Any questions you might have are, of course, welcome.**

 

 

 

 **Please read this first:** I was going to put this at the end, but I decided to start with it instead to avoid confusion.

Scar/Scarlet (short for Scarlet Witch), Crim/Crimson (short for Crimson Cowl) and Flow/Aunty Flow (short for… duh) are all the same person. Which nickname Izzy choses to use is depending on her mood, and honestly to keep from having to repeat the same name over and over.

And btw, did you notice a little something ever name have in common?

 

 

Chapter 2

 

_“The marks humans leave are too often scars.”_

_ ― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars _

 

 

 

Chapter song: Imperfections - Skillet

 

 

 

_Bella_

_Approximately eight years ago_

 

_Phoenix Sky Harbor International airport was noisy and crowded._ _People, coming and going, pushed and shoved forward, eager to get to their destination. If you were only four foot, two and a half inches it was easy to get lost in the masses._

_When Dad told me he had arranged for an airline employee to accompany me off the plane I wanted to argue. I was almost ten and was used to taking care of myself. I didn’t need a babysitter._

_Now, I was grateful that I hadn’t said anything._

_All I could see was a sea of legs and backs, there was no way I would find Mom on my own in this chaos._

_Dressed in my favorite pair of jeans and a t- shirt the same color as my sneakers, I clutched the flight attendant’s hand and tried to ignore how uncomfortable I felt holding on to a complete stranger as we quickly navigated through the airport. The lady practically dragged me behind her and I had to jog to keep up._

_She hadn’t said one word to me after the first introduction. I couldn’t even remember her name, or if I was supposed to address her as Ms. or Mrs._

_My dark hair was up in a pair of crooked pigtails. I hadn’t wanted to say anything to Dad since he had been so proud of his work. He had been in an unexpected bad mood the last week and it had been nice to finally see him smile._

_The straps of my old knapsack dug into my shoulders and I could feel the cornerof one of my books poking me in the back. No matter how much I shifted and tugged or tried to shake it into place it wouldn’t budge **.** Pressing the thumb on my free hand under the straps didn’t help at all, it only made it worse and I winced from the added pressure of my knuckles against the sore spot._

_To avoid tripping I kept my eyes on my feet and I didn’t watch where I was walking._

_One particularly sharp elbow jabbed into the back of my head, causing pain to shoot through my skull and I had to bite my lip as hard as I could to keep from crying out. ‘_ Big girls don’t cry. Big girls don’t cry _.’ I repeated the words over and over in my mind to keep the tears from falling._

_We were almost at the baggage claim when I heard my name being called._

_“Bella!” my face heated with the hated blush when Mom’s voice cut through the noise. Suddenly I felt like everyone was staring at me and I wished I had kept my hair down so I could hide behind it._

_“Mom!” I sighed in relief, despite my embarrassment, happy to finally let go of the hand I was holding. The flight attendant left without waiting for me to thank her. I stumbled over to where she stood next to the conveyor belt and threw my arms around her waist, squeezing tightly. “I missed you.”_

_I loved the month I spent with my Dad every summer, but my whole life was in Phoenix; my things were there, most of my books and clothes, and my best friend, Mary Roberts who lived next door._

_At the end of July I was always anxious to get back. Although a lot could go wrong in four weeks, most of it wasn’t irreversible. The electricity was a phone call and a switch away, same with the cable, and I knew that Mom had enough sense to go down to the Thai restaurant down the block if she got hungry._

_Smiling I took a step back to really look at her after a whole month away, and widened my eyes in surprise.  She was dressed in a short, dark brown skirt and a cream colored blouse. Never having seen my Mom in anything other than long, flowy skirts in bright pastels and tie-dye t-shirts, I didn’t know what to think of the new her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed while I was gone.The old home-made jewelry had been replaced with small diamond earrings and a matching necklace and on the third finger of her left hand was a ring with a huge diamond with lots of smaller ones surrounding it._

_“Mom?” I started, but hesitated when I saw the funny look in her blue eyes. She looked at me weird… like she was sad, but not really. “Is something wrong?” Mom took a deep breath, as if she needed to collect herself. I could feel a knot the size of a baseball building in the pit of my stomach, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be good **.** “Just tell me,” I pleaded with her in a small voice._

_“I don’t know how to say this,” she paused and while I waited for her to continue I noticed something different with her face. Gone were the laugh lines in the corner of her eyes and mouth. It looked as if someone had stretched her soft skin over her cheekbones and forehead. Like someone had taken a rolling pin or an iron to her face, to smooth out the wrinkles. She reminded me more of my math teacher, who was really strict and mean, than the happy, impulsive mother I knew and loved. “I got a call before we left the house… Bella, it’s about Charlie…”_

_All color left my face, the lump in my stomach grew into the size of a basketball and my knees buckled._ ‘No, no, no’ _“Is he…” I could barely get the words out. “Is he okay?”_

_“Yes, yes, he’s fine,” her face remained expressionless and she waved away my worry as if it was no big deal. “Bella, Charlie told me he doesn’t want you to visit him next summer.”_

_“Oh…” I sucked my lip into my mouth. “Does he want to meet me somewhere else?” I asked, tightly._

_“No, Sweetie,” the sound of the familiar nickname didn’t give me as much comfort as it usually did. “He doesn’t want to see you anymore. At all.”_

_I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. ‘_ Big girls don’t cry. Big girls don’t cry _.’ “What…? Did I do something wrong?” I thought back to the last week with my Dad. I remembered how he snapped at me for the littlest things. How he didn’t want to do anything with me. How he left me alone to go fishing with Billy, because he didn’t want me to go with them. Then I thought back to the last fishing trip I went on and how I fell off the boat and started crying. And lastly I thought about the hug Dad gave me before I got on the plane. He had hugged me so hard, as if he didn’t want to let me go. Was it because he knew it would be the last time?_

 _Mom patted my shoulder awkwardly and gave it a squeeze. “You know Charlie, he’s impossible to please. Just forget about him, Bella, because I have some exciting news.” She turned to someone standing slightly behind her and her words from before popped into my mind ‘before_ we _left the house’. “Bella meet Phil, my husband. Phil, this is Bella, my daughter.”_

_Husband? But…What? How? I hadn’t even known that she was seeing someone **.** Just the week before I left for Forks she had gone on  an ice cream binge, crying over her latest break up and made me swear to never date because all men were assholes… How did she go from that to being married to someone in just over four weeks? She hadn’t even mentioned meeting someone new on one of our weekly phone calls. The questions swam in my head and I couldn’t find the answers as long as …Phil? was there. My stomach still ached and my eyes stung, but I took a deep breath and reached out my hand, “Nice to meet you,” I said politely, my voice raspy from holding back the tears and my small smile forced._

_He towered over me and his artic blue eyes, so pale they looked almost white, bore into my brown ones and I couldn’t hold back the shudder that rocked through me. “It’s nice to meet you too, Bella. I’m Phil, but you can call me Daddy.”_

 

 

Izzy

 

The water ran cold long before I was finished in the shower. Suffering from acute  Aphenphosmphobia (1) forced me to start getting ready at least an hour earlier than most, but it was worth it. Although it wasn’t as bad as it was in the beginning, I still hated the feeling of hands against my skin, even if they were my own. Having Scar wash and dress me had become old really fucking fast, so after a year of practicing, I had become quite adept at showering without touching myself skin to skin.

The flinches made me feel vulnerable, but it was a hell of a lot better than throwing up all over myself and/or passing out. Scar called it PTSD, I called it a weakness. We agreed to disagree on that.

After checking the lock three times and turning off the lights, I stepped into the tub to stand underneath the showerhead, turning on the water as hot as it would get.

After washing out the shampoo and conditioner I let the scalding water pelt my head and back, poured a generousamount of liquid soap on my shower mitten and scrubbed my body until my skin was raw and rosy. The water turned cold, but I wasn’t done. Still wearing the mittens, I grabbed a rough sponge that was normally used for scrubbing dishes since none of the shower sponges did the job quite as well, and continued scrubbing, not stopping until I was practically drawing blood.

High School etiquette wasn’t my strong side, but bleeding on your first day was probably frowned upon and if three vampires went to said school it could even be considered hazardous to your health and whatnot… But like I said, what the fuck did I know?

I stood under the freezing spray a while longer but after about fifteen minutes or so I had no other choice but to get out, or risk catching pneumonia or something equally unpleasant. I still didn’t feel clean. After last night’s dream and this morning’s little trip down memory lane I felt as if I was covered in filth and grime,

With one towel wrapped around my body and another around my hair, I stood in front of my fully stocked closet and tried to decide what to wear. ( _First day of senior year. Yay!_ Insert sarcastic cheer.) First up was to choose between the huge variety of colors going from black, to black. “I think I’ll go with black for a change,” I joked with an audience of one, chuckling to myself. “I might have lost my mind, but at least I still have my sense of humor.”

Having absolutely no fucks to give about what I wore to school I threw a shirt and a pair of jeans on the bed and went over to the desk to scour up some underwear. The small room was just big enough to fit a bed, nightstand and desk, or rather a huge block of wood resting on two chests of drawers posing as one. The right side held school supplies, and the other held socks, panties and bras.

The rest of the room was basically bare. No photos, posters, trinkets or memorabilia, just a lamp on the nightstand and a laptop on the desk. I has thrown out everything I didn’t need the day I arrived in town, like the old corkboard and the rocking chair that used to sit in the corner. I was back here for a year, tops, to help Scar ride happily off into the sunset. If said riding took place on a horse or cock was entirely optional. There was no reason to get ‘comfortable’ to do that. I hadn’t been ‘comfortable’ in a long time, there was no reason to start now. This wasn’t my home. I hadn’t had a real home for eight years. The concept was as foreign to me as trust, security, love and safe. Fuck, I _really_ hated the word safe.

Picking out a simple, black cotton bra and matching panties I continued getting dressed, fighting the panic every time I accidentally grazed my fingers over my shoulder as I adjusted the bra strap and my hip when I pulled up my jeans.

Slowly counting to ten helped push down the small bout of anxiety. Soon my breathing returned to normal and I was able to move on to the next problem.   

Disgruntledly I tugged at the hem of the long sleeve. I wouldn’t pick it out for myself and Scar knew that. The small v-neck, the snug fitting fabric that clung to every curve was so far out of my comfort zone I couldn’t even see it anymore. I sighed, resigned and annoyed. Complaining would get me nowhere. _‘Shut up and deal or buy your own goddamn clothes.’_ Yeah, no thanks. “Ugh!” I made a face as I pulled down a black flannel and a hoodie from a hanger.

“I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch, I’m a bitch,” the butchered sound of Bitch by Meredith Brooks blared from my nightstand, almost making me jump out of my own skin. ‘ _Get a grip, it’s just the fucking phone_.’ I let out a stuttering breath and forced my stiff limbs to relax. I was so on edge that I completely forgot I had turned up the volume before my shower so I would hear it all the way in the bathroom. 

Flipping open my phone and pressing send, I didn’t even get the chance to open my mouth before “ _No_ _layers_! _No hiding_!” was barked through the receiver and the call was disconnected.

“ _Fuck!”_ I squeezed my eyes shut. That bitch knew me too well. I tossed the phone back on the bed and flipped it off as it bounced on the mattress. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck you, Scarlet!” Cursing didn’t make me feel even a teensy bit better as I hung the clothes back in the closet, but I did it anyway. “Fuckity, fuckity, fuck, fuck!” Slamming the closet door a couple of times helped a little, but I was still tense when I walked down the stairs with heavy steps towards the kitchen to grab something to eat.

Food was the farthest thing from on my list of priorities at the moment, but part of the deal with Aunty Flow was that I took care of myself, which included eating, personal hygiene – ‘cause God forbid I smelled bad – and sleeping eight hours every night. Since the last part was a no-go, Scar threatened to sick Bitchzilla, also known as Scar’s scary sister, on me if I didn’t stick to the first two.

The fridge was practically empty, no surprise there. The plastic milk container looked full, but the lack of sloshing when I shook it suggested less liquid and more solid content,ruling out cereal. “How hard can it be to throw shit out?” I muttered as I threw it into an empty bag I found underneath the sink.

A box of takeout - which looked like it could use a good shave - joined the milk, followed by a pack of breakfast meat with an expiration date sometime around the time I was born, give or take a decade and vegetables of some kind – at least I thought that was what it was – which looked like a science experiment gone wrong.

The eggswere the only thing close to edible, even the date on the carton seemed promising. After weighing the pros and cons I came to the conclusion that it was worth risking salmonella.

Deciding ‘take care of” didn’t necessarily mean ‘eating healthy’ I sought and located a nonstick pan and fried up the whole carton.

Charlie came shuffling into the kitchen just as the coffee finished brewing and I moved the eggs onto two plates. He grunted something that probably meant ‘good morning’ in Caveman. He hadn’t spokenmore than two words to me since Scar dropped me off at the house a week ago. We were nothing more than strangers who just happened to share the same DNA.

But who could blame him, really. After all, talking might lead to looking at me and he hadn’t done that either, not once as far as I could tell.

For being the Chief of police he was surprisingly squeamish. What, was he afraid he’d lose his appetite? From what I could tell by looking at his doughy midsectionit wouldn’t hurt to lose a few pounds. All those diner dinners and takeout meals had taken its toll on him.

“Here,” I placed the plate and a steaming mug in front of him and sat down in the only other available chair.

“Thanks,” he muttered gruffly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t mention it,” I mumbled, just as gruffly. I wasn’t there to be his unpaid maid. Fuck that. But I had no problem including him in the food part of ‘taking care of myself’. After all, it was just as easy to cook for two as it was for one.

My eyes wandered around the kitchen as we ate our breakfast in silence. Whatever Charlie had been up to the past ten years, keeping the house from slowly falling apart wasn’t part of it.

When I used to come here in the summers the cupboards had been painted in a bright, sunny yellow. Now all that was left of the pealing color was a few flakes in the corners, the surface of the table was badly scratched and in desperate need of a good sanding, and two wobbly chairs were all that was left of the hand carved chairs Grandpa Swan had made himself long before I was born. There were layers of dust and grime from floor to ceiling in every room except for the living room which was somewhat clean, as long as you didn’t count the questionable stains on the carpet. I found it better not to look to closely and just leave it up to CSI when the moment came.

Fastening his eyes somewhere just above my shoulder Charlie nodded to the kitchen window, “That,” I turned and noticed a black Ford f-150 truck parked in front of the house, “showed up sometime during the night. You wouldn’t have something to do with that, now would you?”

Humming noncommittally, neither confirming nor denying, I continued shoveling eggs into my mouth while doing an internal fist pump. ‘ _Sweet! Scar came through for me.’_

Behaving like a ‘normal’ teenage girl and squealing with excitement wasn’t in my nature, but I had to admit I was relieved. Being carless in the middle of nowhere wasn’t something I had looked forward to.

Charlie cleared his throat awkwardly and that was it. No ‘where did it come from’, no ‘how are you going to pay for that, young lady’, no interrogation, nothing. _‘Some cop you are’._

There was much to say about him, but you had to give it to the man who fathered me, he didn’t disappoint. Although his lack of interest was expected after eight years of ignoring me, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stung, just a little.

He looked almost the same as I remembered, only smaller. But everyone looked like a giant to a ten year old. His hair was grayer and he had a few wrinkles around his eyes, but other than that the separation hadn’t left a single mark on _him_.

The taste of bitterness coated my tongue, stealing any appetite I had.

Sipping my coffee and pushing the food around on my plate, I glanced at the clock on the wall to see if it was time to leave for school yet.

“Do you need money for lunch?” he grumbled out of the blue.

The coffee went down the wrong pipe and I started coughing violently. My throat and eyes burned as I gasped for breath, somehow choking and laughing at the same time. I had more money than… I wouldn’t say God, but definitely her second or third cousin, with more zeroes in the bank than I could possibly spend in my lifetime and he wanted to give me a couple of bucks for lunch? “No, thanks,” I wheezed. “I wouldn’t want to owe you anything.”

“That’s not what…”

“Let’s be real Charlie,” I interrupted him, “you want me here about as much as I want to be here. I’m staying in Forks until I graduate from high school, then I’ll be out your hair for good. But if you think I’ll be in the way I could move out. Get my own place.” It seemed like the better choice, but because I hadn't turned eighteen yet he was legally obligated to take me in and ‘provide' for me. The fact that I could ‘provide’ for myself was beside the point.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

“Great,” I said in a ‘glad that’s settled’ way, and got up from the table, scraped off what was left of my breakfast into the trash and placed the plate in the sink.

Back in the bathroom I made myself  focus on my reflection in the mirror, where vacant and anguished dark eyes stared back at me. One cheek was smooth as a baby’s bottom, clear and completely unblemished, and the other horribly disfigured.

Growing up I always thought of myself as plain, but that changed the summer before I turned eleven. I grew boobs, seemingly overnight and suddenly the boys were lining up and I wasn’t stupid enough to believe they were after my sparkling personality.

Bile rose in my throat but I refused to look away until I had slowly counted to thirty, all part of Crim’s fucked up version of therapy. After I made sure I wasn’t going to paint the sink with vomit I let out an unsteady breath, brushed my teeth and dabbed some concealer to hide the dark, purplish circles. I drew thick lines with black eyeliner around my eyes and used the tip of my pinky to smudge the edges, and finished with pulling my hair back into a high ponytail. My dry lips were full of tiny teeth marks, I hadn’t been able to break my lip biting habit, and twisted into a freaky half smirk making me look more crazy than I probably was.

Since Scar forbade me from adding more layers to my outfit I was as ready as I was going to get. Grabbing my brand new black raincoat and messenger bag I hurried down the stairs to my new truck. I gave myself a few minutes to admire the sleek paint and lovingly caressed the hood before getting behind the wheel to drive to my first day at Forks High.

 

*

 

Forks High was everything I expected, and…less. It was a small school, no scratch that; my school in Phoenix had been small, at least by Phoenix standards, this was… miniscule in comparison.

The sign in front of the double doors proudly declared itself to be “Home of the Spartans” apparently the team wasn’t half bad, and the pride and joy of the town and their three-hundred-and-fifty student bodies. Seemed a shame to ruin such a perfectly even number, but something told me Scar had no fucks to give about that.

The parking lot was empty when I arrived, but it was to be expected since it was a little ovet an hour until school started. My early arrival had nothing to do with my eagerness to be there, but everything to do with dropping off a forged doctor’s note to get me out of gym. The school had obligatory P.E for all four years and there was no way in hell I was putting myself through that shit. The note was full of fancy conditions such as Dishabiliophobia (2) and Aphenphosmphobia(1). I also had to make sure Charlie didn’t fuck up my registration so I had brought copies of everything I would need, most of it forged as well.

Muttering to myself about how much it sucked to still be underage for three more weeks I parked my gorgeous new truck next to the Administration’s office and walked inside to meet with the Head of Administration.

In any other school that would’ve been something to be proud of, but in Forks it was nothing more than a glorified secretary/receptionist.

Ms. Cope - as it said on the teeny, tiny golden veneered plate on her desk - was a walking talking, or rather sitting and from the looks of the reflection in the window behind her, playing solitaire - contradiction. 

Her hair had been bleached so many times the whole outer office where her desk was located reeked of peroxide.

She had a mousy look about her, kind oflike Michelle Pfeiffer in Batman Returns _before_ sheturned into Catwoman, but with a scary amount of makeup, no self-respecting hooker would be caught dead in – or alive for that matter - kinda like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show.

The ancient computer hacked and wheezed ominously whenever she pressed the keys in frustration over and over again. She gave no indication to having noticed me and started clicking furiously on the mouse.

‘ _That can’t be a good sign,_ ’

Losing what little patience I’d had I cleared my throat. “Excuse me!” She looked up, startled, her beady eyes widening behind her neon pink Cat Eye glasses. “Yeah, hi. Today is my first day and I was told to come see you before school.”

A bright, toothy smile lit up her face, one of her front teeth slightly overlapping the other, “Oh yes, you must be Chief Swan’s daughter.”

Of course she would know who I was. Forks was, after all, the town equivalent of Cheers, ‘where everybody knows your name’.

‘ _Only by blood, lady._ ’ “Yup, that’s me.”

Not without some effort on her part, she got up from her chair and wobbled over to a file cabinet that clearly had seen better days, like everything else in the office, and started rummaging through it while muttering to herself. “Swan, Swan, Swan…Aha!” She held up a thin folder. “Isabella Swan.”

The sound of my own name grated on my ears, like nails against an old chalkboard and I tried to ignore the memories that flashed behind my eyes as I squeezed them shut. Should’ve made Scar add Onomatophobia(3) to the list.

Pushing down the panic that made me want to crawl underneath the desk and roll myself into a tight ball, I let Scarlet’s words echo inside of my head. ‘ _No hiding.’_  I swallowed thickly and straightened my back. ‘ _No hiding!_ ’ I promised myself and plastered on a fake smile. “These are for you,” I handed her the papers I’d been clutching in my hand.

Ms. Cope added the doctor’s note to my other papers and gave my transcript a brief once-over, “I see that you were homeschooled last year.”

“It’s not just for scary religious people anymore,” I forced a smile.  

“Looks like you’re all set,” Ms. Cope’s smile grew. “Let me give you your schedule,” she wobbled back to behind her desk and after pressing a few keys the printer started up with a choked cough. “Do you have any questions?”

“Well….” I dragged out the word and scraped the toe of my black high tops converse against the threadbare carpet. “I met some kids my age last week. They seem really nice and I was hoping you could check if I have any classes with them. The Cullens?” I cocked my head and turned my face so my scars were on full display. ‘ _Come on, give the poor mutilated, friendless girl some sympathy here._ ’

“I’m not supposed to…” Ms. Cope hesitated and I knew I had her. “But… just don’t tell anyone, okay.” She clicked the mouse a few times, “You have biology with Edward Cullen, but I’m afraid that’s it.”

“Thank you,” I gave her a watery smile. “That was more than I dared to hope for.” I took the schedule she handed me and walked out.

‘ _That was easy. Scar would be proud_.’

 

*

By lunchtime I was ready to call the whole thing off and to tell Scarlet to find someone else to do it.

I was sick of this place and everyone in it.There was the endless staring and talking about me in voices they didn’t even attempt to lower. And the rumors that got even more farfetched as the day went on.

One rumor was that I had caught some mysterious, never-before-heard-of flesh eating STD. They didn’t have the answer for why the scars ended up on my face, but Pizza-face promised to do more research on his iPenis at home. I was actually looking forward to finding out more about this disease. Sounded serious.

Another was thatI had fallen asleep with left side of my face pressed against the knives of a lawnmower and the owner didn’t notice me in time.

And last, but not least, my personal favorite; I got high and tried to apply blush with a curling iron.

Those were the more PG ones and it wouldn’t surprise me if the morons believed them. I considered taking bets on how long it took for one of them to come right out and _ask_ me what happened to my face. The odds were highly in my favor, but would lower substantially if I placed my bet. Besides, if I didn’t place said bet there was no chance of a payoff, so I was fucked either way. 

I just wanted them to leave me the fuck alone, but they seemed to see me as the ‘friend’ equivalent to smoking pot. Not necessarily something you wanted to do, but as long as it made you look cool you’d try it a couple of times, as long as someone was there to see you.

Frizzy was the worst. She. Just. Wouldn’t. Stop. Talking. She was like an annoying mosquito and apparently my ignoring her wasn’t a hint enough to get her to shut the fuck up, so I turned my back on her and walked away in the middle of a sentence. Herpissed “ _Hey?!”_ echoed after me, but I kept ignoring her and continued to my next class. What did she expect? She was annoying me. It was either walk away or punch her in the face. I chose the first option, it was only my first day after all. Ending up in the principal’s office was more of a second week occurrence.

Her bff Natural was next to try and got the same response. By Natural I meant anything but. She had more plastic in her body than a Tupperware company and used so much hairspray there had to be a hole in the ozone with her name all over it.

The boys were as disgusting as I expected. Take Humpty for example. He looked like he was about to start humping my leg any moment. I expected that shit from the guys in La Push, not these slimeballs.

There was the way they undressed me with their wide eyes, or loudly discussed ‘throwing me a bone’ and the ‘gratitude’ I’d show them for even the slightest bit of attention. They knew I heard every word, too. I’d dared them to try and touch me. See how they’d like it. Fucking assholes.

To add insult to injury, every single teacher had called me up to the front of the classroom and asked me to introduce myself, and none of them wanted to take ‘no’ for an answer. Not that I gave them a choice, but it still pissed me off.

So by the time I entered the cafeteria I wasn’t in the mood for anything, not the so called food, and definitely not dealing with two disco balls and a duracell bunny.

But I sucked it up, straightened my back, and walked up to the lunch-line with my head held high, ignoring the stares I could feel boring into me. _Don't think about where you place your feet. Keep your head and chin up. Eyes forward. Don’t look down, always look up._

Grabbing the first thing I saw and paying for the lunch I had no intention of eating, I headed towards the only empty table, covertly scanning the room on the way.

Having only seen photos of one of them didn’t matter since they were easy to spot as long as you knew what to look for.

When I walked past the last table before the one I was aiming for I merely glanced at the people seated there, knowing I was looking for three students, not expecting five. I almost dropped my tray as I froze in place and my head snapped back in their direction, Linda Blair*-style. Widening my eyes, to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, I gaped at the five vampires who stared back at me.

Scarlet had told me all about Fruity, Tiny and Scrawny, but somehow forgot to mention the Blonde and the Behemoth. “ _Five_? There are _five_ of you?” I hissed. “Wait until Scar hears about this. _Fuck_. Where is Buffy when you need her?”

There was no way I was going to bio after this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**A/N: * Yes, Izzy has an old flip phone, mostly because that’s what I have so I know what the hell I’m writing about. No, you can’t customize ringtones on those, at least not the one I have. But I really don’t care.**

 

**.**

 

 

 

*** Anne’s school of English words in Swedish; lesson three: Bio is short for biograf, meaning  Movie Theaters. Pronounced more like bee-o though.**

 

_ ~Quotes, Inspirations, or information~ _

 

 _*) “It’s not just for scary religious people anymore”_ \- From the Buffy The Vampire Slayer episode, Dead Man’s Party

_*) Forks was the town equivalent of Cheers, where everybody knows your name._

‘Where everybody knows your name’ is the theme song from the TV show _Cheers_ (1982-1993) centered around the bar with the same name.

*) _“Yes, I walked away mid-conversation. You were boring me to death and my survival instincts kicked in.”_

*) _Linda Blai_ r was the actress who played the part of Regan MacNeil in the movie The Exorcist from 1973. She could turn her head 180 degrees.

 

 

 

  1.       Aphenphosmphobia- Fear of being touched. (Haphephobia)
  2.       Dishabiliophobia- Fear of undressing in front of someone
  3.       Onomatophobia- Fear of hearing a certain word or of names



 

 **Next update:** September 9th


	4. Chapter three

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

**Beta** : None for this chapter. Hopefully the mistakes aren’t that bad

This will be the last scheduled update in a while. I will continue posting, but for the time being I can’t say When I’ll be posting. Some chapter will take a shorter time and some longer. I just wanted to let you know.  
Things are… not that good and things that were supposed to get better aren’t.  
But I’m still writing as much as I can.

 

Chapter photos: Many of you are probably wondering while Future Peter Petrelli has to do with this chapter. I wanted to give you an idea of what Izzy’s scars looks like and this was the closest I could think of

_“Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden.”_

― Phaedrus

 

Chapter 3

Jasper Hale

As soon as Carlisle returned home from the hospital, we gathered around the never before used dining room table for a ‘family meeting’.  
After filling him and Esme in on what had occurred in the cafeteria we sat quietly for several minutes, just staring. At each other, at the walls, out the windows. Quietly trying to gauge each others thoughts and reactions.  
Rosalie was the first to speak, “I’m not moving,” she declared, her arms over her chest and gave each of us an icy glare, daring anyone to say otherwise.  
“Let’s see what everyone else has to say, shall we?” Carlisle said calmly and turned to ‘everyone else’ meaning Edward and Alice, the only opinions that really mattered in the Cullen household. “We’re going to be the best of friends,” Alice beamed and clapped her tiny hands together. “I’ve seen it.” I smiled tenderly at my wife, and felt my love for her grow as I looked into her eyes.  
Carlisle turned to Edward, “How about you, son? Did you hear anything in her thoughts that suggests she is a threat to us?”  
Edward slowly shook his head, “No. She knows what we are, and that we would be there. Other than that, nothing.” He was speaking the truth, but there was an edge to it that I couldn’t quite get a handle on.  
“I see,” Carlisle clasped his hands on top of the heavy mahogany table in front of him. “Any idea how she came across this information?”  
“Not at the moment, no,” an air of confidence surrounded him, again with a slight edge to it. “But I will as soon as I can get her to think the answer, and since we share a class together there won’t be a problem.”  
That was all Carlisle needed to hear, and just like that it was decided; the Cullens were staying in Forks.  
Esme wrung her hands, her eyes shining with venomous tears, “That poor girl.” Carlisle patted his mate’s shoulder and attempted to pull her into his arms, but she resisted, “Do you know what happened to her, how she got those awful scars?”  
Everyone turned towards me, as if having scars meant you automatically knew everything about them.  
“Three furrows, about half an inch in both width and depth, covers the left side of her face,” I began, keeping my voice empty of any emotions. Their emotions were weighing me down, Esme’s grief being the strongest. Grief over a human she hadn’t yet met, and in all likeliness never would. “The lack of discoloration and swelling would suggest a year old, give or take a month. From what I could tell, taking in the open grooves and lack of visible suture marks on the surrounding skin, the wound has been left to heal on its own. Maybe she never sought help, or maybe there was an infection… Your guess is as good as mine.”  
The others shared their mumbled opinions, “They’re hard to look at.” “Completely disgusting.” “She looks kinda badass.” “I want to rip whoever or whatever did it to her apart.” But all I became white noise as my focus was on the deformity on the new girl’s cheek.  
Esme gasped, “Poor child. If you…If you were to guess…?”  
However, it seemed if I had given the issue more thought than I thought as I answered without a second’s hesitation. “An animal. Large. A wolf, or a bear…. Or…” That’s when it hit me. It would certainly explain a lot, especially her knowledge of our kind, “...Or a vampire”

 

*

  
Isabella was absent the next day, but come Wednesday she was back and continued to confuse us. When passing our table at lunch on her way out of the cafeteria she winked at Edward, _“See you in biology Eddie. Remember to hold your breath.”_  
Had it been anyone else ‘Eddie’ would’ve thrown a fit over that nickname.  
He acted as if he hadn’t heard her, his eyes boring into the back of her head with a look of deep concentration, completely riveted by whatever he found there.  
Later that evening we gathered around the dining table again. This time to discuss Isabella’s comment and what had happened during their shared class. “It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I wasn’t sure I would be able to control myself,” he admitted, deeply ashamed. “I took her advice and held my breath for the entire hour.”  
“She must have known,” Carlisle mused, fascinated by the girl he had yet to meet, “but how is that even possible?”  
Edward kept his answers purposely vague, admitting she knew he would be tempted by her scent and had decided to warn him. He promised to apologize and swore he would be able to control himself in the future.  
Thursday she walked with a sway to her hips, smacking her behind as she passed our table. _“Nothing, Frosty? Really? Damn, and my ass being my best feature and everything.”_  
What did she mean? What was she thinking? Who was Frosty? Our questions went unanswered as Edward still wouldn’t divulge what he learned from Isabella’s private thoughts.  
There was no room for secrets in a family like ours, neither was lies. The gifts the three of us had didn’t offer much privacy, we tried to give it whenever we could. In return we promised full disclosure on whatever advantage our abilities gave us.  
Our gifts were intrusive, but being privy to someone’s deepest, darkest thoughts was something else altogether. Edward was known to close himself off, to analyze and mull over what he had learned on his own, but he always informed the family about his findings. To maintain the peace and trust we couldn’t keep things from each other.  
I could tell that Edward was hiding something from us, and it worried me. Normally I would have waited for my wife to pry it out of him, but I sensed this time was different.  
My unease spread to the others as I accidentally projected my worries to them.  
Alice took it the hardest. She hated being out of the loop and made sure everyone of us knew it. I was asked to go hunting after one of her tantrums caused me to throw a couch out the window.  
Isabella didn’t show up for lunch in the cafeteria on Friday but had supposedly been seen around school, at least according to Edward.  
Alice newest approach to get the answers she wanted was giving everyone the silent treatment and I started to wonder if vampires could get migraines.  
My anger towards our youngest ‘brother’ grew with each passing second. Didn’t he understand that I was dying to know what she was thinking? I _needed_ to know.  
Emmet was intrigued. He thought her scars were badass and wished he had some of his own. Not having any marks to show for it was the one thing he couldn’t get over from being mauled by that bear all those years ago.  He was the only one who never understood why I always covered mine. Then again, he never understood the meaning of shame either and the word embarrassed wasn’t even in his vocabulary.  
Rosalie was torn. On one hand she was raging over Edward’s invasion of privacy, whether it was intentional or not, and Alice’s thinking that she had the right to know what was going on inside of Isabella’s mind. On the other she wanted to know about the new girl as much as the rest of us, even though she would never admit to it.  
When Saturday came we were all climbing the walls, figuratively speaking of course. Alice quiet sulking hadn’t lasted long, and her latest attempt to getting Edward to tell her what he knew was making sure everyone in the house was as miserable as she was. The tension was at its breaking point and I decided to go for a run before I did something I would regret.  
The further I came from their influence the more I felt myself relax. Not having a direction in mind I just ran, letting my feet guide me.  
A couple of hours later I found myself in the middle of Forks. I didn’t turn around towards home, I didn’t make up an excuse about wanting to check up her. I just let the curiosity lead me.  
Edward caught up with me as I turned in onto the street leading to Chief Swan’s house. I had put enough distance between myself and Alice to know the anger I felt was mine alone.  
Grabbing him by his shoulder I dragged him in between the trees out of sight from any humans that might still be up at this hour.  
Edward wasn’t much of a fighter, but thanks to the mindreading he knew my every move before I made them, giving him an unfair edge when it came to defense.  
Our confrontations tended to be…loud, and not something that should be done in public.  
He hissed angrily, “I knew I would find you here.”  
“Are you following me?” I sneered.  
“I had to make sure someone was here to protect her from _you_.”  
You didn’t need to be an empath to sense the possessiveness in him. What I couldn’t tell was: was he protecting the girl…or his kill?  
“Nice try, but I’m not the one who almost drained her in biology.”  
Edward narrowed his eyes, “I think I’m in love with her.” He said it with a straight face and a voice that never wavered.  
I snorted “No, you’re not.” He might be able to use his ‘Poor me, I just want to be loved’ routine on Carlisle and Esme, but he should’ve known I wasn’t as easily fooled.  
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I was hoping to desensitize myself to her scent.” Edward shook his head as if to clear it and I felt his fear, but it was overridden by his thirst. I had never felt anything like it. “I am worried Jasper. What if…” I could feel the tethers around his control vibrating under the restraint he put them under. The monster inside of him was closer to the surface than it had been in years. He wanted her blood, and although he was fighting against it, and would continue to do so, a big part of him just wanted to give up his control and take what he so desperately wanted.  
Holding up my hands in front of myself I spoke soothingly, quietly as you would a child, or a wild animal as I sent out as much calm as I could without knocking him out “There’s a reason why you waited until I showed up. You don’t _want_ to hurt her” I hated taking the submissive stance but I had to make sure that Edward stayed in control of himself, especially this close to Isabella.  
“I don’t _want_ to be a monster,” he choked, his features twisted in agony. “But her scent, her blood… I don’t know if I can resist.”  
“Do you think she’s your singer?”  
“Yes…no….I don’t know,” he stared down at his hands, still curled into claws. “I don’t know,” he repeated in a whisper, looking like a scared little boy.  
My pity was the last thing he needed, so instead I tried to help him come up with a solution. “Desensitizing,” I mused, “do you think that could work?”  
He frowned, “I don’t know, it might.”  
“Okay,” I sighed. If I didn’t want to monitor him all hours of the day it left me with no choice. “I’m coming with you.”  
The only sounds disturbing the silence were the usual nighttime noises and the occasional snore coming from one of the houses we passed as we crept down the dark road.  
Chief Swan’s home was the last one on the street, and stood a little farther away from the others. As soon as we stepped onto his front lawn I knew I had made a mistake .  
The moment her scent reached my nostrils venom filled my mouth and trickled down my chin. I had to fight to control not only with my own thirst, but Edward’s as well. It was too much.  
Giving him a shove that sent him flying into the forest I rushed to the side of the house where the mouthwatering smell came from and scaled up the wall to her window.  
Edward’s furious roar became nothing more than buzzing background noises as the wet, succulent sound of her beating heart filled my ears.  
I raised my hand to break the glass, desperate to taste the rich, savory blood on my tongue. I wanted to drown in it, quench the never-ending craving for the luscious liquid running through her veins. I wanted to sink my teeth into the soft skin of her jugular, have the rush of her warm blood soothe the burning in my throat and listen as her heartbeat slow down until it finally stopped altogether.  
_‘Does she know I’m here? Does she know death is coming for her?’_  
My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I knew Alice would forgive me for what I was about to do. I could tell that my time was running out, Edward had regained his footing and was seconds away from reaching Isabella’s window, to take what was _mine_.  
I let my fist fly only to freeze just as my knuckles was about to touch the glass.  
Something make me pause and that’s when I saw it; there, in the middle of the window was a piece of paper about the size of a stamp. Written in tiny letters in a messy scrawl were the words: _‘Sorry boys! No pulse, no heartbeat, no entrance! See you Monday!’_

 

**A/N: *Yes, the Cullens referred to her as Isabella. In this AU they wouldn’t know not to call her that because she hadn’t introduced herself as anything else.**

*** Yes, Edward knows he share a class with Izzy, despite her ditching it. Wouldn’t the teacher call out her name if she was supposed to be there? Especially if she was a new student.**

*** Anne’s school of English words in Swedish; lesson four: If you come to Sweden and read the word ‘Glass’ somewhere you’re in luck, because that means that place sells ‘Ice cream’**


	5. Chapter 4

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

 

 **Beta:** None, all mistakes are my own

 

 **A/N:** To everyone who read, faved, followed, reviewed or gave me a kudos or two.. I don’t know how to express how much it means to me. I might forget to tell you that, but it does mean a lot. Never doubt it.

And to the guests taking their time to drop and line or two: You rock!

 

 

 _“Ready or not, here I come_ __  
I'm so tired of this dumb game of hide and seek  
Olly olly oxen free  
Show yourself, you're scaring me  
Come out, come out, where ever you are  
You've taken this thing way too far”   
― [Sonya Sones](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/36718.Sonya_Sones), [ _Stop Pretending: What Happened When My Big Sister Went_](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/63136)

Chapter 4

 

Jasper Hale

 

We had another family meeting on Sunday. The third one in a week.

Usually we had one every five to ten years, but at least the topic remained the same; my control, and how I almost slipped…again.

They knew I would stop, everyone insisted. Alice’s phone call had merely been a precaution, and that they were all so, so proud of me.

Rose wasn’t as impressed. To her _almost_ was cutting it too close. “If we’d been forced to move again I would have removed your fingers and toes and hid them for the next decade.”

She meant it, too. I  bowed my head at her and smirked. At least she was honest.

Edward stared out through the wall of windows, strangely quiet. Was he reading the truth in their minds? That, despite their beautiful words they were all disappointed in me?

Even Alice, who always defended and stood up for me, had a hard time hiding her frustration underneath the layers of love.  

I looked at her, frowning. She had always been my biggest advocate, and I didn’t know what to make of it. I barely had time to finish the thought before myconcern was replaced by pride laced with lust. Throwing her a sly grin and a wink I mouthed to her to behave until we were alone.

Carlisle, ever the scientist, was curious to _how_ I managed to stop.

And just like that, the thoughts I had tried to keep to myself to give Isabella back some of the privacy I stole from her, was in the forefront of my mind.

_My mouth gapedopen, half in anticipation of sinking my teeth into her neck and half in shock over the note. Suddenly her scent changed. What once was merely hinted at increased, heightened and rose like a cloud of smoke, dancing, twirling around me and things I thought lost to me became a possibility once more._

_The idea was there for a blink of an eye, then disappeared, leaving a smoky tang behind._

_The muted sounds that came from the other side of the glass grew in volume. “Please…don’t...” she whimpered._

_Her body laid stillon her bed, and at first I thought she was talking to me. The sudden twitching in her muscles and limbs, as if she was fighting to free herself but couldn’t, told me otherwise._

_‘_ She’s dreaming. _’_

_My instincts told me that the girl who entered the cafeteria with the attitude of a hellion would never want people to see her like this._

_Quickly I brought forth a mental image of Emmett in Rosalie’s underwear to keep Edward out of my thoughts while simultaneously sending a heavy dose of lethargy his way._

_Isabella’s back arched off the bed and her mouth opened in a soundless scream. I was horrified and my mind screamed at me;‘_ help her! _’_

_After raising the power on Edward until he passed out. I switched to sending calm waves to the terrified girl. I kept it up until her breathing slowed, her crying stopped and she fell into a deep, peaceful slumber._

Edward knitted his brows; his confusion and guilt the only signs of his reaction to what he was seeing.

He remained silent, even when Carlisle asked him how Isabella could have known we would show up outside her window.

“Do you think she’s a _Renfield_ *?” Emmett askedeagerly, and answered his own question. “Nah, I can’t see her as a bug eating mental patient….” He tapped the side of hisnose and rapped his knuckles against the table. “I know, she’s a _familiar_ *.” He nodded to himself. “Yeah, that’s it!”

Alice glared at him.“Moron!” she hissed angrily. I took her hand in mine and laced our fingers together. I sent her my love in hopes to calm her and pressed my lips to the tip of her thumb.

My sweet wife didn’t always get along with her largest brother.

Emmet never made a decision - conscious or otherwise - about anything, pretty much rendering him immune to Alice’s gift. She never knew what he was going to do, say or even wear for that matter.  She took it personal, convinced he did it just to spite her.

Emmet continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “Wonder where she has her tattoo,” he eyed us expectantly as if waiting for an answer. “I could ask her to strip so we can look for it,” he grinned and tapped his knuckles against the table again.

“The _hell_ you will.” Rose spat, her glare heated enough to melt the arctic ice.

Emmet merely shrugged, “Fine! _Eddie_ can do it,” he waggled his eyebrows at Edward. “It’s about time he start rounding the bases. But Isabella might be too much of a challenge, since he can’t score with the most willing vampire in the world.” Emmet never wasted an opportunity to tease Edward for what happened, or in this case _didn’_ t happen, with Tanya.

Edward was raised in a time where fine young men waited until marriage before having sex. Tanya’s brazen personality both turned him on and scared him off.

Every time we visited the Denali’s she made it clear she wanted him, and no matter how much he denied it _I_ knew he wanted her, too. However, her strong sexual nature was too much for his virginal sensibilities and he the visits ended with him running screaming in the other direction.

He wanted her, but he didn’t _want_ to want her.

Neither Emmett nor Rose understood what his problem was. His lack of experience wasn’t the problem, Taya had enough for both of them. After being alive for over a thousand years, there probably wasn’t much she _didn’t_ know.

She exuded sex from every pore, and after each visit I locked myself with Alice inside of our bedroom for at least a week. The mated couples stayed away for at least twice as long as that.

“It’s about time you cashed in your V-card, Eddie,” Emmett snickered. “You need to get your dick wet, stir the macaroni, park the beef bus in tuna town, slip her the baloney pony. You’ll never catch up to Tan, but this way you can see if Isabella’s pussy is as fucked up as her f…”

Three things happened, one right after the other; Rosalie smacked her mate so hard his chair, with him still on it, slammed into the wall behind them. Edward growled and jumped on top of the table, and I threw myself over it, pushed Edward aside as I flew past him and landed on Emmett's chest.

The added weight caused both of us to break through the wall, wood and plaster flying around us. Anger burned inside of me and I took a sick pleasure from my fist to repeatedly meet his face, “Don’t talk about Isabella that way again. _Ever_!”

 

 

*

It took all five members of the family to drag me away from Emmett and it took at least another hour  for the black haze to lift from my vision and the color of my eyes to return to their usual gold.

Had they let me leave the house or at least left me alone for awhile, it could have gone over much quicker. That way I could have calmed myself down, instead of having to wrestle with agitation, worry, and even fear coming at me from six different directions.

Emmett apologized, despite not knowing what he had done wrong. He just figured ‘better safe than sorry’ and left it at that. The softhearted Esme admired me for taking a stand and defending Isabella, but the fury and violence had frightened her, and taken her back to a time she much rather forget. Rosalie was plotting my demise, and rightfully so, as I had almost broken her husband’s face in half.

The hairline fractures had healed by themselves and a few drops of Rose’s venom had helped fuse together the larger cracks. He was as good as new.

Rosalie, the one besides Emmett with a reason to hate me for what I had done, was the only one who actually understood. How was that even possible when I couldn’t understand it myself? I didn’t know where the sudden rage had come from, or why the burning need to protect and defend Isabella Swan had taken over.

Contrite as I was Emmett wouldn’t hear of it. “I’ll do something to deserve it soon enough anyway. Look at it as a free pass for the next time I screw up.”

Esme graciously accepted my deepest and sincerest apology, and promise to replace the broken chair and repair the Emmett size hole in the wall.

When it came to Alice I knew I would have to pay for my lapse in judgment with both my time and money. Lately she’d had her eye on a canary yellow Porsche, now would be the perfect time to buy.

The elaborate punishment Alice no doubt had planned for me had to wait when in the midst of deciding how to handle the Isabella situation, Edward declared his refusal to have anything to do with ‘spying’ on her and locked himself inside his room, effectively ending the conversation.

A locked door couldn’t keep us out, but it was a matter of respect. A locked door meant that the person on the other side wanted to be alone, and that made even the flimsiest of human craftsmanship unbreakable.

It took us until dawn to convince him to leave his quarters and take a part in the discussion.

When time came to leave for school we weren’t closer to solving that problem than we had been at the beginning of the evening. Carlisle still wanted us to observe, not approach, but agreed to allow one of us to strike up a casual conversation with the girl, if the opportunity were to present itself.

“Let’s not forget to check for that tattoo,” Emmett insistent reminder fell on deaf ears as we headed out to the garage.

 

*

During thedrive into Forks we discussed – read argued – whom of us was best suited to talk to Isabella.

We couldn’t just walk up to her in the hallway or ask her to join us at lunch.

As the new girl Isabella gathered enough notice as it was, and if people were to learn of our interest in the Chief Swan’s daughter the rumors would spread like wildfire, something neither of us needed.

Carlisle had told us to keep our distance unless we could guarantee a positive outcome. Agreeing we had filed into the Volvo and forgotten our promise as soon as the doors shut behind us.

It was quickly decided that Edward was thebetter option . Having the benefit of sharing one of her classes gave him the perfect opportunity to talk to Isabella without raising suspicions.

Eyes and ears were everywhere and you never knew who could be watching. Caution were of utmost importance before we had gathered further intel.

Refusal was futile, as was arguing that her scent would work as distraction. With four against one he did not get a say.By the time he parked the car in front of the school he had relented, albeit reluctantly.

Edward had always been irresistible to women, and we counted on him having her eating out of the palm of his hand after the first crooked smile. The plan was simple. We wanted him to act friendly, perhaps flirt a little. Assure her that we meant no harm, but needed answers.

We even teased him about how she would follow him around like a lost puppy afterwards. _“I hope she’s housebroken,”_ Emmett guffawed. _“Esme will kill you if she pees on the carpet.”_

We ran into Isabella just as she was leaving the cafeteria. She gave us a small finger wave and winked, “Frosty, you’re looking faaaabulous today.” She looked amused, but when I tried to get a feel of her I came up empty yet again.

During lunch we tried to school Edward in the fine arts of flirting. Which words to use, light casual touches, winks and smiles that should turn her into a stammering mess and make her confess all of her secrets.

For as long as I had been with the Cullens, girls and women of all ages had been throwing themselves at him, and the poor boy never had a single clue of what to do with them. He took most of our ribbing in stride **,** and it wasn’t long before we had emptied the topic and silence stretched out around the table.

Having nothing else to say I let my mind wander, unconsciously testing the emotions of my adopted siblings.

Rosalie was at war with herself. Parts of her were as desperate for information as the rest of us, but she couldn’t help but wish the poor girl were kept as far away from our kind as possible.

Emmet had the attention span of a toddler and was all about instant gratification. He hoped we would go with his plan; grab a sleeping Isabella from her room, take her to our house and torture her into telling us what she knew. However, he didn’t approve of the dictionary’s definition of ‘torture. Emmet had taken his fair share of human lives, but he hated the idea of actually hurting anyone, especially not an innocent human girl who obviously seen more than her fair share of horrors.

Edward battled with anger, attraction and guilt. He _had_ lied when he told me he loved Isabella, but that didn’t stop his body from reacting to the scent and the beautiful imperfections of the new girl. The guilt came from the love he spent half of his vampire life denying. He hid his feeling with such conviction that he had the rest of the family fooled. But I knew better.

Alice was… disappointed. She couldn’t understand why her vision of Isabella becoming her best friend didn’t become true the moment she saw it happening.

But she was also worried. She felt Edward pulling away from her. Her plans of pushing him into her new friends arms hadn’t worked the way she predicted and she saw herself going from being the most important person in the world to him, to someone who came second… or maybe even third, and that was something she didn’t know how to handle.

 

 

*

 

Edward was the last to arrive at his car after classes ended for the day.

Leaving the building in human speed had proved almost impossible as my anticipation and impatience was tripled in the company of Alice and Rosalie.

Emmett, on the other hand was still hoping for his own plan and couldn’t care less about what our brother had found out. During the day he had come up with the perfect idea: force Isabella to spend an hour with my wife, where Alice talked fashion and shopping, and she would be _begging_ us to let her speak. My offense on Alice’s behalf had wavered slightly when I realized a small part of me agreed with him.

I pulled her closer, and breathed her in, while counting backwards from ten thousand to keep Edward from learning the treacherous path my thoughts had taken. But her familiar scent didn’t comfort me as it used to. Before I had the chance to wallow in my guilt Edward stormed out of the school and I was hit with anger and a reluctant respect.

His expression remained **impassive** as he slid in behind the wheel and shoved the key into the ignition. He pinched the bridge of his nose and  looked right at me through the rearview mirror, I noticed that his eyes, which that morning had been a bright gold was now almost black. “We need a new plan.”

 

*

If someone told me just a week ago that an human would be able to avoid five vampires for not one, but four days straight I would have told them that they were out of their minds. Much could change in just seven short days.

When Edward had told us she’d tested out of biology we should have taken a step back and realized the normal proceedings wouldn’t work on someone who was anything but ordinary. Instead we’d merely moved on to the next plan; sweet talk school secretary into giving us Isabella’s class schedule.

We could’ve easily hacked into the school’s database and gotten the information ourselves, but Carlisle forbade us. As long as there was no proof that she was a danger to our family we would do everything ‘the right way’.

He also put his foot down regarding returning to her house and snooping around. He didn’t even relent to Alice’s pleading. She did not respond kindly to that and made sure we all knew it.

It was decided that Edward and I were best suited to reach out to Ms. Cope. Our abilities gave us the best chance of getting answers.

_The stale and stuffy air inside of the Administration’s office barely moved in the small gust of wind we brought with us from the outside._

_Deeply engrossed in what appeared to be a riveting game of Hearts Ms. Cope barely spared us a glance as we walked up to the heavy metal table substituting for a desk, “What can I do for you?” she asked distractedly. We waited with stoically for her to look upfrom the ancient monitor, before informing her of the reason of our visit. After a couple of minutes she finally looked up. “Oh, Mr. Cullen, Mr. Hale, what can I do for you boys?”_

_The hilarity in hearing someone who were at least sixty years younger than Edward calling us ‘boys’ was something I would never get used to._

_“We were hoping to take a look at a schedule, maybe you can help us?” Edward’s voice held the perfect amount of nerves, hope and embarrassment, and to sweeten the deal he gave her one of his famous crooked smiles at the end._

_Sheappeared flustered, but quickly composed herself, “Boys,” she scolded us softly, “you know very well that’s against school policy.”_

_“We’re well aware of that, ma’am,” I said, using my own smile and a light dose of acceptance as ways to influence her. The unintentional return of my old southern twang, brought back memories from a past I had made myself forget. Alice all reminders of what I’d done before her, so I had gladly changed my manner of speech for her._

_“What’s the name of the student?” Ms. Cope asked._

_Edward and I couldn’t hide our victorious grins. She hadn’t agreed yet, but it was just a matter of letting Edward search through her mind to find the right words._

_“Isabella Swan.”_

_Ms. Cope’s demeanor changed instantly, her eyes narrowed and her voice cooled substantially, “Ms. Swan?” Her smile tightened, and her earlier acceptance soured, “Yes, she told me you became friendly over the summer.”_

_Edward must have expected her reaction because he remained relaxed next to me. Before I had the chance to warn him to tread lightly his smile widened, “Yes, we’re_ very _close friends,” he winked at Ms. Cope. “She’ll want me to have her schedule.”_

_“I see…” Ms. Cope nodded, the same strained smile on her thin lips. “First let me ask you one thing.”_

_“Anything.”_

_“If you’re such good friends...” She venomously spat the words in a voice as cold as ice, “then why don’t you ask her_ yourself _?”_

_Edward stood there, stunned and unable to utter a single word to his defense. I grabbed him by his arms and pulled him out of there._

_We left the Administration's office with more questions than when we entered. The most important one: what was it about this girl that awakened the will to protect in everyone she met?_

_“Didn’t you read her mind?” I asked Edward incredulously, unable to understand how he missed the signs. From the moment I mentioned Isabella’s name it had been clear that we would not get the information we came for. We should have apologized to Ms. Cope for taking time away from her card games and went on our way._

_“_ I don’t know _,” he hissed between his teeth. “There was nothing in her thoughts that warned me. All I could see was her sympathy and hope that Isabella would find someone who would take care of her. I thought that if I hinted at doing just that…” he shook his head. “I was wrong.”_

_We met up with our siblings outside of the school building and everyone agreed that we were left with one last option: confronting her._

_Our curiosity overruled Carlisle orders. Not even the risk of attracting unwanted and unnecessary attention could dissuade us. We needed to know if Isabella Swan was a threat, and refused to wait any longer._

Turned out to be easier said than done.

With the exception of passing her in the hallway she managed to stay out of sight all of Tuesday.

She had looked straight at Edward, arched her brow and whispered, so no one else would hear her, “I know I smell good, Eddie, but could you please stop looking at me like I’m your last piece of chocolate before fat camp. It’s rude.”

Seeing as we couldn’t agree on what she smelled like – I thought she smelled like strawberries and vanilla mixed with a touch of the smoky cinnamon that reminded me of a different time, but Edward insisted on freesias and lilacs – and we were the only ones who had been close enough to Isabella to separate her scent from the other students it was only natural that we would lead the search through the school. Rose opted on going with me, and where she went Emmet were sure to follow, so Alice choseto go with Edward.

Spreading out over the school, sniffing inconspicuously and feeling more than a little stupid doing it, I had tried to catch the trail of Isabella’s scent but every time I found a trace it disappeared in a cloud of perfume.

Slowly walking through the throngof bodies pushing to make it from one classroom to the next, Rose had kept her eyes open for a girl with Isabella’s coloring, Emmett had kept his ears open for her low husky voice and I…I had been a little over six feet awayfrom being reduced to a bloodhound with his nose pressed to the ground.

The five minutebell signaled an end to the investigation and we split up to walk to our respective classrooms.

The room to American History was still empty when I arrived, so I managed to snag a double desk in the back for Edward and I. A few minutes later the chair next to mine scraped against the floor as he took his seat. I kept my eyes on the whiteboard, mentally giving him a quick run-through of our progress, or lack there off.“ _No luck. How about you?_ ”

“She has English lit,” he breathed. The other seats were all starting to fill up butMr. Erikson, hadn’t showed up yet. As a smoker he was always the last to walk through the doors, and the first to leave. “Berty always holds his classes beyond the bell. That gives us enough time to get there before she disappears again.” His bloodlust spiked at the thought of being close to her, but his control never truly wavered.

“ _Sounds good. The two of us going is more than enough **.** We want answers. If we gang up on her she might get scared and bolt._ ” I could only hope my wife understood reasoning for wanting to approach Isabella without her and didn’t see it as a punishable offence. No one could hold a grudge quite like Alice.

We came to an agreement just as the teacher showed up stinking of cigarette smoke and I sat back, preparing to suffer through another inaccurate rendition of the Civil War. I had fought in that war and had yet to come across a teacher that knew what he, or she, was talking about.

But for once I didn’t spend the class struggling not to correct Mr. Erikson, instead I was going over the checklist forwhich questions to ask Isabella. The whats, whens, whos and the whys had to take a step back to the hows. How did she get those scars? How did she manage to evade us every turn? And most importantly how did she know about vampires to begin with?

Five minutes before the bell Mr. Erikson wrapped up the lesson in a hurry to get his next nicotine fix, and let us go with the reminder that we had a test next week and to study, study, study.

Our walk to Isabella’s classroom took us there with two minutes to spare.

Leaning against the wall behind a row of locker kept us mostly out of sight from the door, but still gave us full view of it.

At the sound of the bell various noises echoed through the halls. Rubber soles and high heels scraping against tile, voices; from the deepest bass to the highest soprano, followed by laughter and shouts. But just as expected the door to Berty’s classroom remained closed.

Minutes passed, and just as we thought we would have to leave to make it in time for our next classes we heard the English lit teacher grouchily tell his students to pick one of the classics to read, and write a short essay on the difference between that time and the present. Quiet, and not so quiet, groans and moans moved towards the door.

The knob rattled slightly as it slowly twisted around, and both of our eyes were glued to the growing crack as the door opened. We pushed away from the wall, ready to close up around Isabella as soon as she left the classroom. Cornering her wasn’t a viable option, so Edward and I had decided that we would walk her to her next class, and ask her as many questions as possible during that limited timeframe **.**

One after one they trotted, tripped, shuffled, stumbled, wriggled and wandered out into the hall, but none of them were the scarred brunette we were looking for.

Where was Isabella?

 

 

 

* **Anne’s school of what English words means in Swedish; lesson five:** ‘Last’ means ‘cargo’ but can also mean ‘bad habit’. The a is more quicker/softer (no idea how it would be described in English.) like Lassie.

 

_~Quotes, inspiration, or information~_

 

  ***Renfield (from the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker) as described by Wikipedia:**

Renfield is an inmate at the lunatic asylum overseen by Dr. John Seward. He suffers from delusions which compel him to eat living creatures in the hope of obtaining their life-force for himself. He starts by consuming flies, then develops a scheme of feeding the flies to spiders, and the spiders to birds, in order to accumulate more and more life. When denied a cat to accommodate the birds, he eats the birds himself. He also changes his ideas to accommodate Mina Harker by quickly eating all flies and stating that it was an old habit. Doctor John Seward diagnoses him as a "zoophagous maniac", or carnivorous mad man.

During the course of the novel, he is revealed to be under the influence of Count Dracula. The vampire, whose abilities include control over animals such as rats, bats and spiders, comes to Renfield with an offer: if Renfield worships him, he will provide Renfield with an endless supply of food.

 

***Familiars (from the movie trilogy Blade) as described by Wikia:**

Familiars are human beings that have devoted themselves to the vampire nation and pledged themselves to a house or specific vampire leader. The have a small tattoo to show which house or vampire leader they belong to somewhere on their body.

Familiars had perks- one of which if they proved themselves worthy, their vampire lord would turn them and they would be permitted into their inner circle. This was difficult- both because of the high standards vampires had and because there were rules and regulations about turning humans- the House of Chthon had very strict rules about turning. Familiars had many reasons to want to be turned- it's been said that cripples bound to wheelchairs walk when they are turned, and some felt that the vampire nation would win no matter what, and they'd rather be servants of the vampires


	6. Chapter 5

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

 

**Beta: hannah_perry85** Yay Hannah is back. And y’all should be happy. LOTS of mistakes in this chapter. Those still there is all me

 

**A/N:** I’ve never actually read R &J so sorry for any mistakes/inaccuracies.

 

 

**Chapter warning:** It doesn’t matter if 99.9% of my readers doesn’t think this chapter is a big deal. If just 0.1% reacts badly because I didn’t warn beforehand it’s 0.1% too many

 Proceed with caution and read the short A/N at the end

 

 

Today I got the feeling I should’ve named this fic ‘Tainted’ instead

 

 

_I have found as much beauty in darkness_

_as horror in light_

~Unknown**

 

Bella

(approximately seven years ago)

 

_The walk from the beginning of the driveway to the front door took exactly fourteen minutes and twenty-six seconds._

_I knew this because I had timed it. I also knew that if I walked slow enough, or took short enough steps I could make it take twice as long, sometimes more._

_It wasn’t that big when Phil bought the house, but Mom had hired people to redo it. They had to move the gate and dig up most of the garden and pave the twisting and turning roller coaster-ish shaped path with asphalt. It stunk for weeks._

_Why we needed such a long driveway was beyond me, but Mom_ needed _it.  She needed a lot of things all of a sudden, things she never cared about before._

_Phil gave her whatever she wanted, it seemed to make him happy._

_I wondered if he did it to take away some of his guilt for not paying enough attention to her. He was always working. He spent more time away than with his new wife. It made me feel sad for her. Just because I was happy he wasn’t home didn’t mean she was._

_But sometimes I wondered if she even noticed his absence. She was always so busy with her new friends and interest to care about anything else._

_The house appeared abandoned as I got closer after dragging my feet over the black tarmac. The curtain-less windows stared at me, dark and empty. The garage port gaped open-mouthed, hungrily awaiting its Master's cars._

_It wasn’t unusual sight, even after ten pm on a Saturday._

_A lot of things had changed during the year that passed since Mom married Phil. Less than a week after my return from Forks our old home was for sale, and before I knew it we were packing up our belongings and moving._

_When school started I was the envy of the rest of my classmates, and people from other classes too. People I didn’t even know, or had ever talked to before. They were all so jealous of our big, new house and my cool, new dad… They could take it, I didn’t want it._

_I missed Dad. I even missed my Mom, even if I saw her every day. It just wasn’t the same as it used to be._ She _wasn’t the same._

_The neighborhood I grew up in wasn’t exactly within walking distance from the new one, but I could still go to the same school and hang out at Mary’s house afterwards. Although it was far enough that we couldn’t walk to school together like we always had._

_The new house was pretty and all, but I missed the old one. It was big enough for the three of us. We could’ve stayed there if we wanted to._

_But no one asked me and now here we were; living in a two story house with more room than we could fill._

_The second floor originally had five bedrooms, two of which had adjoining bathrooms. The master bedroom was the largest room up there, of course, and the room next to it had been remade into a walk-in closet. It was filled to the brim with dresses, skirts, shirts, shoes, hats and much, much more. She had an outfit for every social affair, situation or organisation. She was prepared for anything._

_The top floor also had a smaller TV room and a library with gorgeous oak shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. Mom had that room made into a home gym. The one in the basement was off limits._

_The kitchen, dining- and living room was on the first floor, as well as my bedroom with its own en-suite bathroom. It was the smallest room in the house, and still more than twice the size of my old one._

_Mom had never been into stuff like cooking and cleaning, and now she didn’t have to._

_A maid service came three times a week to clean the house from top to bottom, whether it was necessary or not. A nice but slightly weird and smelly French chef served dinner promptly at seven pm every evening, no exceptions, even if I spent most nights eating at the large oval dining table by myself. Before Mom remarried I had sleepovers with my friend Mary all the time, even on school nights. Her mother didn’t mind and neither did mine. Now I wasn’t allowed to spend more than a night every other week at their house._

_Last there was the basement. It was Phil’s domain, and it was off limits to Mom and me._

_We had only been allowed downstairs once, just after they finished remodeling. One fourth was turned into a workshop. It looked like your typical shop class, with countless tools, most of which I didn’t even know the name of, machines I didn’t know the use of and a metal table that looked kinda like the ones they used in morgues._

_The rest was turned into a home studio for Phil. As a photographer he had travelled all over the globe, taking beautiful photos of beautiful things or beautiful people._

_Mom loved to brag about her famous husband, and always talked about how he’d made a huge name for himself before his twentieth birthday. Phil wasn’t much better in the bragging department, he just wasn’t as open about it. But it wasn’t Mom who had built-in shelves lining the walls in the waiting area filled with his awards._

_His reputation for being the best of the best had made it possible for him to stop travelling. He still made the occasional trip, but only if he approved of the location, motif, and they gave him complete creative freedom. That was more important to him than how many zeros was on his check. Phil had been on the forbes 400 three years in a row, the pay meant little to him._

_He never took Mom with him on his trips, said he didn’t want to ‘mix business with pleasure’. But still he had asked me to go with him to Paris over Christmas Break. I was glad when Mom said ‘no’._

_He had models traveling from all over the world to have him take their picture. The most gorgeous men and women, people I never thought existed except in glossy fashion magazines, were coming and going from his studio at all hours of the day_

_“Mom? Ph…Daddy?”I called out after unlocking the door In the beginning I had refused calling him anything other than Phil, that title didn’t belong to anyone but my real one, whether he wanted it or not. The punishments started out small. At first they just sent to me bed without dessert, or took away the TV in my room whenever I called him by name. I didn’t care._

_The next thing they did was forbid extracurricular activities and afterschool programs. But I could still stay in my room and read, so I was okay with that._

_When they told me I wasn’t allowed to have friends over, or go to their house I was about to give up. I mean, it was just a word, right? Who cares what I called him?_

Me _. I cared._

_My evenings and weekends were spent alone. Reading. And for a while things remained the same. I mostly stayed out of their way, and they mostly stayed out of the house. Things weren’t exactly good, but they weren’t bad either. All that mattered was that I hadn’t given in, and that I never would._

_That changed a couple of weeks after Christmas._

The first dinner party of the year had just ended. The hired kitchen staff was gathering the last of their things and leaving instructions for the cleaners in the morning.

I was exhausted and happy to finally get some sleep. If it were up to me I would’ve gone to bed hours ago, but Mom demanded I stayed for the whole thing.

The hallway leading to my room felt endless as I tiredly stumbled forward, already more asleep than awake. I was almost at my door when his hand landed on my butt with a light smack. “What...who..” I muttered groggily and turned to face him. His hand stayed where it was“Phil? Wha…? Why…? What are you doing?” My mind felt hazy and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

Another smack, followed by a caress and a squeeze. “Not Phil, Isabella. _Daddy_. You’re supposed to call me Daddy like a good little girl. Don’t you want to be a good girl for Daddy?”

His face was close to mine and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. I thought I was going to be sick. “But… you’re not…”

“Do you know what happens to bad girls, Isabella?” he continued. “They get a spanking.” He smacked my butt again, harder this time. “Do you want Daddy to spank you, Isabella?” he half slurred, half grunted. “Because Daddy will spank his little girl if she doesn’t behave.”

I tried to push him away from me, but he kept tightened his grip on my buttt. “I… please… You’re hurting me.” He was scaring me and his fingers squeezed so hard it hurt. “Ph...Daddy..” I whimpered.

My knees buckled and I almost fell to the floor when he released me. With a quick kiss to my forehead and a soft, “That’s Daddy’s good girl. Sweet dreams, Isabella,” he walked away.

The next morning everything felt so unreal and I wasn’t sure if it had happened or not. I had been so tired, maybe it had all been just a bad dream. I never told my Mom about it, and I never called him Phil again.

_The seconds stretched into minutes as I listened for answers other than the echoes of my own voice._

_My shoulders sagged with relief when I was met by nothing but silence. They weren’t home yet._

_Without a way of knowing how much time I had I hurried towards my room for a much needed shower. It was hotter than usual that day and I’d been sweating like a pig._

_If it was even possible to find something negative about summer it would’ve been that. Trying to explain wanting to borrow your friends showers when you had a perfectly good one at home wasn’t easy. At least during the semester I had P.E as an excuse. Who knew I would ever found something positive about gym class._

_It started a few days after the dinner party._

_I could feel eyes on me in the shower, see dark silhouettes through the stall's frosted glass, and the door was always open when I left the bathroom even though I was convinced I locked it behind me. Mom called me crazy and told me I was imagining things. I didn’t know_ what _to believe._

_I lasted a whole week without showering before the smell became too much._

_After that failed experiment I developed a routine. ‘Lock the door. Start the shower. Check the door. Test if the water if warm enough, adjust if not. Check to see if I locked the door. Take off my clothes. Rattle the handle to see if I really locked the door and then getting into the shower.’_

_It appeared to be working so when I first noticed the large, dark shape against my white painted walls I wondered if the light through the steam filled showerstall was playing a trick on me. But I wasn’t imagining the door unlocking itself. Was I?_

_It took me awhile but eventually I came up with a plan to not only get to shower in peace, but also to find out if I was losing my mind or not._

_If there really was someone spying on me I wouldn’t find proof in an empty house. There was no chance of someone walking in on me when I was alone, but it was kind of like a test run and what better time to try it when no one else was home._

_I had no idea when they would be home. Mom usually forgot to let me know about her comings or goings, and Phil… He didn’t talk to me at all… Not really._

_For all I know they would be back tomorrow or next week, or at any moment now._

_Knowing it was better to be safe than sorry I undressed quickly and threw my dirty clothes in the hamper._

_Starting the shower, I took a few seconds to add to memory exactly where the soap, shampoo, and conditioner were placed. I didn’t want to get them mixed up._

_The last thing I did was lock the door and turn off the lights. I had realized that no one could watch me if they couldn’t see me, and they couldn’t see me if I was in the dark._

_I sighed with relief as I stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash away the tension in my back and shoulders. Everything would be alright._

_The past months worries seemed to disappear down the drain along with the suds and I started humming. Soundlessly at first, then louder and louder until I was full on singing at the top of my lungs._

_The acoustic was tested to its limit as the sound of my tone-deaf braying drowned out everything else. My eyes had adjusted and I could make out the contour of the soap._

_There was no warning. I didn’t hear the click of the lock or the creak of the door. One moment I was reaching for the loofah in the dark and in the next I was blinded by the light._

 

 

Izzy

 

 

When Friday rolled around I was so over the little game of Hide & Seek I had going with the Disney rejects. It had been fun at first, watching them run around like headless chickens, but that didn’t last more than a day. How people managed to stay in school for the whole day, I’d never know. What the fuck was there to do, learn? Pfft. I’d missed my Junior year and I _still_ knew more than the teachers in this hellhole.

At least on Wednesday I had broken up the monotony somewhat by being thrown out of class. Now _that_ had been hilarious as fuck.

_“Today we’re going to discuss the greatest love story of our time,” Mr. Berty had that look, the one every teacher got when they wanted to build up anticipation. I could almost hear him chanting ‘wait for it’ in his head, followed by a drumroll. “I am of course, talking about Romeo and Juliet.”_

_I leaned back in my chair until it rested on two legs, and groaned.“This is gonna suuuuck.” With just four short words I blew the plan to keep my mouth shut throughout the school year, but I had a good reason. If you’d heard one teacher wax poetically about ‘Rebounder and Juvenilia’ you’d heard them all. It was something about that play that gave them a hardcover hard on. It was sickening._

_“I beg your pardon?” the teacher gave me his did-someone-just-fart glare._

_“Oh, I’m sorry,” I rolled my eyes at him. “I meant to say: ‘Methinks this whilst sucketh’.”_

_Mr. Berty looked down his beak at me. “Miss Swan, would you care to elaborate?”_

_“How about Romeo pitching some serious tent over some other chick and is talking about offing himself because little miss thang isn’t interested in riding his dick. This  just hours before hitting up Juliet.” I ignored the muted snickers coming from the creeps to my right and cocked an eyebrow. ‘_ I dare you to let me finish _,_ asshole _.’_

_“That would be the simplest way of putting  it, yes” he harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest. “By all means, continue.”_

_“His buddies take him to some party where he falls cock over ass for Juliet, forgetting all about the chick he so passionately declared his ‘_ forever _’. If that’s not a sign of true fucking devotion, I don’t know what is.”_

_The first warning came as Mr. Berty’s eye twitched. I was pushing my luck and doing it on purpose._

_I was surprised when he nodded for me to keep talking, but kinda curious to see how far he would let me go._

_“And then shit really hits the fan when he finds out she’s his enemy.” I whistled, “Oh duuude he did not take that well; is this when his bff, or whatever the boy equivalent is, gets killed by her cuz, or does that come later?” I shrugged. “Not important, because now,_ now _he decides they’re getting hitched. Like, eight hours after meeting her. Because that’s what you do when you’re in love, right?” I glanced to my left and got an eager nod from Frizzy. Irony was clearly not her thing. “To quote Juliet here ‘It's only your_ name _that's my enemy. You'd still be yourself even if you stopped being a Montague.’ So I guess she agreed that if she changed her name to his they wouldn’t be enemies anymore.” I shrugged again. “Fuck if I know.” I trailed my fingertips along the uneven lines on my cheek while I gathered my thoughts._

_What filled the room wasn’t the hear-a-pin-drop kinda silence. More like a Humpty-probably-has-_

_asthma-because-I-can-hear-him-wheezing kinda silence._

_“So they get hitched, right? The whole thing is witnessed by Rome’s trusty servant or whatever and Jules’s nanny, and holy fuck what is her damage? Letting her ward get married after knowing someone less than a day? Someone should’ve called CPS on her ass….”_

_“I think you mean CBS.” someone said, the opposite of helpfully.._

_Holy Mother of brainlessness. “No, I really, truly don’t.” I sighed and shook my head sadly, looking at Mr. Berty through my lashes. What a waste of taxpayers'hard earned money. “Where was I.. Ah, yes.. pay attention now kids because this is a big one: Juliet was only fucking_ thirteen. _. That’s right, the heroine in this story had barely hit puberty. Not so romantic now, is it? The age of good ol’ Rome is more vague, he’s thought to be somewhere between twelve and twenty-one, but since he’s described as a man, albeit a hairless one if my memory serves me right, I’d say he’s around seventeen – eighteen years old, and he screws a thirteen old.” I eyed my fellow classmates, grinning at their discomfort.” Let that sink in for a moment. A guy in his late teens marries and fucks a thirteen year old. Quite the stud, huh?” I snorted._

_The second warning was less subtle. The eye twitching had worsened and although he wasn’t quite yelling at me he wasn’t far from it. “Are you finished, Miss Swan?” His slight greyish complexion was looking more puce with each passing second._

_I lifted the corner of my lips and turned the pull of my mouth into a full smirk. “Sure, why not.”_

_He sighed deeply, and turned to the rest of the class. “Is there anyone else who would like to add something?”_

_Natural’s nasal voice came from somewhere behind me. “They could only be together in death. That’s what makes it romantic.”_

_Oh, don’t fucking judge me. There is no way any sane person would’ve kept their mouth shut. “Oh, Nat, I got some news for you. One: suicide isn’t_ fucking _romantic. Two: once you’re dead, that’s it. No heaven. Nothing. You’re just worm food. And three: if they had waited a week they would’ve realized they were more in lust than in love and went on their merry fucking way to find someone they could actually_ live _with, not just die for.”_

_“Now, Miss Swan, that’s enough. Miss Mallory is entitled her own opinion.”_

_“Not when it’s crap, she isn't.” By that time I just wanted the class to be over. I needed to pee, call Scar with an update and douse myself with eau de whore before Trig. “Besides the only reason she even cares about them is because of that movie with Leonardo NoOscario.”_

_“Just…” Mr. Berty pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just leave.”_

_“Fine,” I muttered and got up from my chair. “See you tomorrow.”_

The sooner this was over, and the two fucknuts where boning towards the sunset, the better. I was done listening to the Not yets. Another few days’. You don’t want to approach them too early, it could ruin everythings. How does he look, what was he wearings… Blah, blah, biddy blah.

Fucking drama queen.

It was time I took matters into my own hands, I was sick of gassing myself with twenty kinds of perfume several times a day, from morning to every fucking time I went from one classroom to another, all in the name of evading the bloodhounds. Pun totally intended.

It didn’t matter that it was some cheap-ass brands thatevaporated after an hour or less, I reeked. I didn’t think it could’ve beenworse if I’d marinated myself in it.

Showering didn’t help much either, I still smelled like a whorehouse and a half. Soon it became so bad that even _I_ couldn’t stand to be in a room with myself.

‘ _Not yet_ ’ wasn’t an option anymore.

For the first official meeting to take place on my terms I decided to ditch the first four classes of the day, and didn’t show up at school until lunchtime.

The plan was to get to the cafeteria early, and wait for them at their usual table.

What I hadn’t counted on was running smack-dab into Flash and that fucking video camera she carried with her everywhere.

Since the day I stepped foot inside the School of the Damned she had hounded me like a little paparazzi in the making, trying to get me to appear in ‘Good Morning Forks High’. The crap the school forced us to watch in homeroom every morning.

It didn’t matter how many times I told her: “I.Don’t. _DO_.Cameras”, she just wouldn’t take no for an answer. At least Jiminy, her obnoxious microphone wielding sidekick wasn’t around this time.

“Come on Isabella. Just a few questions. It won’t hurt.”

‘ _The fuck do you know_?’

Shit like this was the reason I prefered Frizz and Nat. I could easily shut them out, but Flash just wouldn’t leave me alone. She was like a fucking dog with a bone. And comparing her to a dog…. the poor animals deserved better.

More than one math class had been wasted on calculating the right angle and force needed to shove her camera down her throat. Mr. Varner would be so proud.

But after weighing pro’s and con’s – the pro’s being Charlie having to arrest his own flesh and blood, could you imagine the shame, and the con’s: Scar’s reaction to me being arrested, period - I came to the conclusion it just wasn’t worth it. Besides, Scar could put some major hurting on me if pissed off.

Either way, I was still seventeen for eight more days, so it wasn’t like Charlie could throw me in the slammer anyway, right?

I flipped her off and walked up to the lunch line to grab the first things my eyes landed on. I had already fulfilled my feeding requirement for the day and wouldn’t eat…I eyed the plate on my tray suspiciously… the tuna salad. It was just props. Paying for my meal, I headed towards the Cullens' usual table, took the empty seat that just happened to be between Edward and Jasper, and waited for them to join me.

I didn’t have to wait long.

They walked into the now half-full cafeteria in pairs with the virgin at the head, like a tighter version of a flying v, but instead of ducks all I saw was fucks.

They were standing in line to buy some props of their own when they noticed me and if I hadn’t been looking for a reaction I would never have seen it. Blondie stiffened as she reached for a banana, arm hanging frozen in front of her, Gigantor took a little longer, but I just chalked that up to him hoping to get his woman to ingest some of the phallus shaped fruit. He looked pervy like that. Leopold stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and stared in my direction. The kid must be raised in a barn or something.

Thumper shoved her tray in the face of the poor lunch lady, and did the same with Frosty’s tray. She practically dragged him towards the table while squealing like a pig.

‘ _And here I am, the big bad wolf, just waiting to go huffin’ and puffin’ and blow her house down._ ’

 

 

Jasper Hale

 

 

The euphoria pouring out of my wife overwhelmed me, and my attempts to calm her with heavy doses of tranquility wereunsuccessful.

I was stronger than her with or without supernatural strength, but Alice could escape most strong holds with ease.I struggled to keep her from rushing over to the table with vampire speed. She was crazed and frenzied as if she had taken on the qualities of a newborn. If she had been human she would’ve pulled my arm right out of it’s socket. She was just as eager as a toddler running towards a treat. In Alice'scase it just so happened to be the  equivalent of Christmas, birthdays, first day of school and a shopping spree all wrapped into one.

It was a good thing we were virtually indestructible, or the students of Forks High would have gotten a show they’d never forget.

“ _Alice_!” Edward hissed with the last of his breath. “Get a hold of yourself, people are staring.”

And some were. In various levels of discretion a few students looked between us and Isabella, and it wouldn’t take long for the curiosity to spread like wildfire.

With his help I escorted Alice to her seat and sat down next to the elusive Miss Swan. Edward choose the chair to the right of her, and Rosalie and Emmett took the two remaining seats.

“I see you’re done playing games,” Alice frowned but broke out in giggles.

The twitching in the corner of Isabella’s eye, an indication that she wasn’t as calm as she looked, went unnoticed by everyone else. I was grateful for the little peak into her frame of mind. But her wall remained in place and her emotions stayed hidden from me. I was dying to ask how she was doing it, but I was forced to bide my time and let my exuberant wife handle the questioning for now.

Distracted as I was, it took me several seconds to realize that although I felt Alice’s excitement and the curiosity of my other siblings as well as most of the humans in the cafeteria, I wasn’t as affected by it as I normally would be.

 I could still feel everything they felt, but unlike yesterday and the day before that… This time I didn’t experience any of it as my own. The nothing coming from the girl to my left was somehow giving me a respite from everyone. I didn’t know whether to be thankful for the peace or demand that she stopped whatever she was doing. I wanted to tell her that I was on to her and that she couldn’t fool me as easily as the rest of them. But I wasn’t and she did.

I had yet to find the key to the mystery that was Isabella Swan. It frustrated me, but at the same time I was more intrigued by this little girl than by anything else in a long time.

I had the feeling I was missing out on something, but I couldn’t figure out what.

Alice kept prattling about as I had my epiphany without letting anyone else get a word in. “Oh my _Gawd_. I can’t believe you’re _here_. At our table,” she gushed. “I’m totally fangirling right now. No one has ever, and I mean _ever_ escaped Edward or Jasper before. You’re the _coolest_.”

I blinked slowly, dizzy from the stream of words coming out of her mouth. She sounded like teenager, which she technically was, squealing over one of those pretty boy heartthrobs on the covers of the glossy magazines she loved to read. I couldn’t help but wonder what had gotten into her, and from the feel of things I wasn’t the only one.

Isabella didn’t appear to have heard a single word Alice said, or maybe she just didn’t care. Her dark hair was pinned on top of her head in a loose bun with wisps and tendrils that had escaped to frame her scarred, heart shaped face and her curves were as usual covered in black..

She tapped the curve of her neck with her index finger three times, her shoulder twice and upper left arm once, and four times over her heart before starting over again, repeating the pattern. Combined with the beating of her heart the tapping created a rhythmic sound that was almost hypnotizing.

She gave us a lazy once over, stopping at Edward “Your hair,” she paused her tapping long enough to reach towards him, as if she wanted to muss it up a bit, “it just screams ‘freshly fucked’. Isn’t that false advertising?” she cocked her head to the side as if she actually expected an answer and restarted her tapping.

Emmet spat the half chewed burger all over the table. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t get a word out. If he had been human I would’ve thought he was choking. “Did….” wheeze “...she…” wheeze “…just…?”

She ignored him and shifted her attention to Rosalie, nodding at the diamonds and sapphires adorning her slim neck. “Niiiice,” Isabella nodded approvingly. “But I figured pearls would be more your thing.”

It was a metaphorical trainwreck. Rose’s mouth dropped open, but her indigent gasp was swallowed by the sound of Emmett’s chair scraping against the floor as he jumped up and fled the cafeteria, leaving an ear shattering cackle in his wake.

Something akin to mischief trickled out from the Isabella, but her expression remained impassive.

“Yes, that right there is _exactly_ what you should do next time. No muss, no fuss,” her smile was anything but innocent.

I tensed, getting ready to throw myself in front of her and shield her from Rose’s wrath. From the corner of my eye I noticed Edward doing the same thing, and I saw Alice grab her sister’s wrist to keep Rose from reaching across the table and ripping Isabella’s throat out.

Panic rose when Alice's grip loosened. Her eyes glazed over and she was taken over by one of her visions. We needed Emmett. He was the only one who could calm his mate.

‘ _Call Emmett and get his cowardly ass back in here,_ ’ I mentally roared at Edward.

I watched Rosalie, waiting for her to strike, and monitored the rest of the humans in the cafeteria to see if someone noticed what was going on at our table, all at the same time.

Only a handful of seconds had passed, but if felt like hours.

The silence stretched out between us. Into minutes, hours, _weeks_ … Until it took on a life of its own. A silence so thick even the human children seemed affected by it. It was as if the whole cafeteria was holding its collective breath. The only one who seemed remarkably unmoved by what was happening was Isabella herself.

‘ _What’s_ wrong _with her? Is she_ suicidal _?_ ’ I asked myself, beyond bewildered.

Something flickered in Rose’s eyes and I knew I had to make a choice. Either take Isabella and run, thus risking exposure, or let Rosalie rip her throat out, thus _guaranteeing_ exposure. I did neither. Instead I leaned closer to the mysterious girl beside me until my nose touched her scarred cheek. I inhaled her scent for the last time, hoping to memorize the peculiar familiarity, when suddenly a sound reached my ears.

A sound so foreign that I was convinced I had mistaken.

Edward, Alice and I stared incredulously at Rosalie as she snorted again..

“You got balls, girl,” giving Isabella a smirk of her own. “I’ll give you that.”

“So I’ve been told,” Isabella shrugged noncommittally. “So where did tall, dark and cackling take off to?”

“Cackling,” Rose chuckled. “Good one. Emmett has something of a chicken over him, doesn’t he?”

“Oh yes that Emmett.” Alice laughed a little too loudly. “He is the cackliest.” She shook off the hurt she felt for being ignored and took back control over the conversation. Now that there wasn’t any danger she wanted to fast forward to the start of their friendship. “We really, really want to get to know you,” her smile was wide and almost too bright. “We have so many questions…” she climbed onto my lap to get closer and took Isabella’s hands in between hers. “We want to know everything there is to know about you. Oh Isabella, we’re going to be the best of friends.”

Isabella stared down at their hands and I didn’t need to look into her eyes to know she was uncomfortable. Maybe it was the discomfort that caused it, or maybe it was deliberately,

but without any warning the walls surrounding her emotions fell away and suddenly I could _feel_ everything.

She stopped tapping for two heartbeats and during that time I could feel everything she felt.

Pain, anguish, fear and a deep hatred  slammed into me. The force would’ve knocked me over if it hadn’t been for the familiar and comforting weight of my wife resting on top of my thighs.

It only lasted for a second or two, but it was more than enough, and afterwards I could still _see_. When I first looked into her eyes I thought they were empty but I had been wrong. Now that I knew what to look for I could _see_ every single one of her emotions in the dark depths. Through all my years as a vampire I had never before crossed paths with a human who felt so _much_. The darkness in her eyes were shadows from every emotion she fought so hard to suppress. She was falling apart in front of our eyes but I was the only one who saw it happening. Not even Edward could see it.

The mind was an interesting thing. Much more durable than the body. But there was only so much the human mind could take before it cracked.

I couldn’t imagine what her mind had been forced to endure for her to learn how to shut off her emotions in that way. I didn’t want to. The nightmare I had walked in on had been bad enough. ‘ _How is she still functioning?_ ’

Her walls were up but I suspected the distress and revulsion I sensed was partially because Alice was still touching her. Relieved to finally have something tangible to do for Isabella, I took Alice’s hand in mine and laced our fingers together.

“Yeah, I heard you were psychotic,” her voice was hoarse but strong, and I didn’t need to be an empath to know she was bored.

“Oh you,” Alice giggled. “I think you mean psychic.” Isabella’s nonverbal response spoke for itself but my wife was apparently none the wiser.

Emmett returned to the table, literally dragging his feet and smiled apologetically. “What do we know?”

Isabella pursed her lips, “Dog spit is cleaner than human?”

His guffaw boomed inside of the cafeteria, causing every eye that wasn’t already on us to turn in our direction. “Besides that.” he finished the quote with a grin. “I like you.”

“Oh goodie,” she mumbled sarcastically. “Just what I always wanted, Bob the Builder as my bff.”

Irritation came at me from the other side of her shortly followed by Edward’s voice. “Can we please stop playing games and get some answers.”

“Ooooh,” Emmett cackled. “Someone’s got his panties in a twist.”

Edward’s grabbed the edge of the table and tightened his hold until he added another crack in the Formica. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. Annoyance, remorse and most of all thirst battled within him. “I’m sorry,” he gritted. “But I think there are more important things to do than build questionable friendships, don’t you?”

“You’re right, let’s get down to business,”Isabella tipped her chair back until it was resting on two legs and crossed her arms just underneath her breasts. “What do you want to know?”

“How do you know about vampires? Who is Scar? Is that his or her real name? Is he or she the one who taught you about us?” the questions just poured out of me.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna answer that… Haven’t you heard? Snitches get stitches and I got all I need.”

“Then what _can_ , or _will_ you tell us?” Rose asked.

“Tell you what,” Isabella righted her chair and leaned forward over the table. “I’ll give you three questions…” she held up her hands in the air when we objected loudly, “ _for now_.” She glared at me, muttering about ‘fucking bloodsuckers’ who needed to ‘learn a little fucking patience’. “You’ll get three questions _for now_. Make them count.”

Later that same evening I would still ask myself as I ran through the Alaskan wilderness if Isabella knew what would happen, if she even had planned it that way.

We huddled together over the table top, debating in hushed whispers which questions were the most pressing, and weren’t paying attention. It wasn’t until Alice started firing off questions at the speed of a machinegun I realized I had forgotten the most crucial part. We knew how badly she wanted her friendship with Isabella to start, and yet none of us had thought to ask her to remain patient just a little while longer.  

“How do you like Forks? Wow, it’s gotta be a huge difference from Phoenix. Do you always wear black? I think a deep blue would go better with your skin tone. Do you want a sleepover? I never had one, we could paint each other’s nails and talk about boys. No junk food for me of course, but you can eat what you want I promise not to judge.”

Alice bounced on my lap and the words continued to spill out of her pretty little mouth. “We could go shopping,” she prattled, always happy for an opportunity to spend money.

“Nope,” Isabella enunciated carefully, popping the p. It was clearly not up for debate, but Alice wasn’t listening.

“Yes. I’ve seen it,” she leant back against my chest, confident that the discussion was over and she’d get her way.

“Nope,” that single word spoke volumes. Alice wasn’t getting her way this time. “I don’t. Wetter. Yes. No. No. No and No!” She got up from her chair and grabbed her bag, getting ready to leave. “There’s your answers, I even threw in a couple of extra as a gesture of good faith.” She turned her back to us and started towards the cafeteria exit.

“Wait!” I lifted my wife off my lap and placed her on the chair she usually sat on and followed the mysterious human. “You still haven’t answered our questions.”

She stiffened and turned around, facing me. “Look,” she poked a finger in the middle of my chest, “If you want more answers I suggest that you and the horror movie cast offs be happy with what I give you, and learn some fucking patience. Did ya understand all that or do I need to take it slower _, Sug?_ ” she walked away, quickening her steps.

“Isabella!” I called after her.

She spun on her heel, a fire burning deep in her eyes, and hissed. “Don’t call me that. I’m not Isabella. She’s dead. _They killed her_.”

 

Izzy

 

 

The standardized ringtone woke me up at five a.m. Saturday morning.

Still mostly asleep I fumbled on the dresser after my phone and pushed the little green button without looking at the display. “Fuck Scar, you gotta stop waking me up every morning. I’m a grown woman I can deal with some nightmares.”

“You have nightmares?” a vaguely familiar voice spoke into my ear.

Icicles ran up my spine. “ _Who is this_?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Anne’s school of English words in Swedish; lesson six:** Plan means plane. Both level and aero. But it also has the same meaning as the English word, so... It’s a multitasking word.

 

**A/N:**. I personally think authors/writers using rape as a plot device are assholes and I would never do that. That being said I can’t promise everything that happened to her will be completely consensual, but she won’t be forced into anything sexual that involves penetration of any kind.

 

_~Quotes, inspiration, or information~_

 

**Pearls** **,** as in pearl necklace… There is no good explanation for it. Just… check on Urban dictionary… and yeah, sorry

****this quote comes in many shapes and forms, this just happened to be my favorite. What it does not is come with who said it, so Unknown it is.**

**Whilst** is apparently synonymous with  _while_  in standard English, but I think it sounds more like ‘will’ so I’m using it anyway (and pretending that’s what it means, otherwise the teacher would correct Izzy)

**‘I suck-eth’** is pinned on the back of Artie’s shirt at the Medieval High School in Shrek the Third

**Leonardo NoOscario** **-** Kinda from honest trailer of Wolf of Wall Street by the Screen Junkies, but they called him NoOscaro and I think my version sounds better.

**Juvenilia** are literary, musical or artistic works produced by an author during his or her youth, but it sounds kinda like the female equivalent to juvenile doesn’t it?

**Jiminy** **–** I chose to nickname Ben Cheney after Jiminy Cricket because in Sweden he’s called Benjamin Syrsa (Cricket).. Plus, he’s short, so bonus.

**Gigantor** \- is an American adaptation of the anime version of Tetsujin 28-go, a manga by Mitsuteru Yokoyama released in 1956. It debuted on U.S. television in 1964. As with Speed Racer, the characters' original names were altered and the original series' violence was toned down for American viewers.

**Cackliest** – From Elle. She likes fire.

**Buffy** : What do we know?  
**Xander** : Dog spit is cleaner than human.  
**Buffy** : Besides that.

_~Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Season 2 Episode 19 I only have eyes for you_

 

 


	7. Chapter 6

**All recognizable characters belongs to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

 

**Beta: Hannah_Perry85 (this is beta’d, I promise. It might not seem like it, but that’s all intentional. Really, truly.)**

 

**A/N:**

I expect some will have trouble reading this. No trigger warning, just craptastic grammar and stuff. Just be grateful I didn’t add every curse. Kindly insert Fucking, Hell, Shit, Dammit or whatever colorful word that seems fitting in between every other word.

 

 

**If you’re reading this on FF net or Ao3: If you wanna see my take on the wolfpack and the imprints check out pinterest (handle AnneValkyria, board ‘Tarnished a Paul/Bella fanfic’)**

 

 

 

 

 

_Graffiti decorations_  
Under a sky of dust  
A constant wave of tension  
On top of broken trust  
The lessons that you taught me  
I learn were never true  
Now I find myself in question  
They point the finger at me again  
Guilty by association  
You point the finger at me again

 

_Runaway – Linkin Park_ __  
  
  
“Not all scars show. 

_Not all wounds heal._

_Sometimes you can't see,_

_the pain someone feels.”_

― Lisa French

 

 

 

Chapter 5

 

Paul

 

_Eight years old_

 

 

_The chair had two splinters. One poked my elbow and the other the back of my knee. It hurt and my leg felt tickly wet, like it did when you were bleeding but didn’t know. My butt was numb from all the sitting but I tried to not move. It was hard ‘cause one leg was too short so the chair wouldn’t stay still. But maybe if I didn’t move so much maybe the angry people wouldn’t yell at me. Maybe._

_Everyone were strange, except Mr. and Mrs. Chief, Mr. Harry and the Quils. The strange shouted really loud. The ladies screamed the most loud._

_The short hand on the clock above the big desk pointed at eight.  I was tired and so, so hungry. My tummy purr-growled, like a kitten not a bear, so no one heard. I didn’t know the last time I eated. Maybe yesterday. They picked me up and dropped me off at the meeting hall before breakfast that morning, and no one had given me any food. Not even a sandwich. Soon it was too late. You couldn’t eat when your tummy hurted. It was wasted food._

_My eyes stinged. I just wanted to go home. But I didn’t know where home was no more. Dad was gone. I didn’t want to be sad, but I was. He always left me alone. Sometimes hours and sometimes days and days. Sometimes he left me in parks for ladies to find. When he came home he smiled. Those days was the best._

_He took care of me though he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to keep me around when Momma died on him. He did it anyways, and it wasn’t his fault I couldn’t be good._

_I used to think he was a hero. I used to think lots of things. I used to try telling people about dad’s shed. But no one never listened. People never listened to you when **you’re** little, so I stopped saying things at all._

_I picked on a scab on my knee and blowed on it when it stunged._

_My teacher Mrs. Tamela told my dad it wasn’t normal to not speak. I didn’t got to go school again. Dad told me he’d teached me better than her anyway. He didn’t ‘member to do that. He didn’t ‘member lots of things._

_Dad wasn’t coming back this time. Not never, the policeman said._

_Mr. Chief had met me at the door and said to sit in the corner and wait until the meeting was over._

_I had pulled my knees up to look as small as I could. Maybe I looked so small they couldn’t see me, and forgetted me? That might not be bad. Being seen wasn’t always good. Dad always seened me. Always._

It wasn’t the first time I tried to run, and like the other times I didn’t get far before he catched me. He always catched me. “I’m the only one you got, boy. You better keep your mouth shut or else you’ll end up in an alley somewhere. And you know what happens to people in alleys, don’t ya boy?”

There was a lump in my throat and I tried to swallow it down and tried to blink away the stinging in my eyes. It didn’t help much.

I whispered, “Yes, sir.”

He pressed the flat side of the knife under my chin, “Speak up, boy. I didn’t hear ya.” He pressed a little harder, and more harder until the sharp edge cutted my skin.

“Yes, sir!” I opened my eyes as much I could to make them really big to not cry, tears only made dad's squeezes more hurting.

“You better remember that, boy, because if I ever catch you sneaking out again there is where you’ll end up.”

_Bad things happened in alleys. I didn’t want to know what would happen to me in one._

_I tried to not listen to the grownups, I really did. But the screaming was so loud I couldn’t not._

_“I will not have that…that_ monster’s _spawn living under my roof!” Mrs. Chief shouted._

_“Come on, Sarah. He’s just a little boy.” Mr. Chief sounded like he was begging and squeeze helded her hand._

_She slapped him away, “You_ know _what his father has done. That_ little boy _was raised by that bastard. He could grow up to be just like him, or worse. I_ do not _want him anywhere near Rachel and Rebecca, and neither should you.”_

_“Harry…” Mrs. Harry looked sad. “I agree with her. We can’t take him in. Think about our daughter,” she pleaded with him. ”Think about Leah.”_

_No one was saying nice things about me but for Mr. Chief, but he stopped long ago before the sun went down._

_The stinging in my eyes started up again. I tried…I tried so hard to be good. But it wasn’t never enough. I tried to hide it, but people always seened how bad I was._

_“I don’t even want him on the reservation,” said a mean-looking old lady. “Creeping around and peeping at us through our windows.” She shuddered. “No, thank you.”_

_“Come on now, Sue,” Mr. Harry said. He talked in that really slow way grownups talked to kids when they wanted them to understand something. “He’s a little boy, the same age as our baby girl. No doubt a messed up boy, but still  just a boy.”_

_Boy. Everybody called me boy. I had a name, but no one never said it. Not even when they talked to me. Not that no one never did. “Paul,” I whispered the quietest I could. I did that sometimes, whispered my name. I didn’t want to not ‘member. Could you not ‘member your own name? I hoped not._

_The screaming stopped, but I still hearded every word. I didn’t want to listen to what they said. It made my tummy hurt lots more._

_“He can’t stay here,” Mrs. Chief squeezed her hands so tight they got white spots._

_Where couldn’t I stay? In the hall? In their house? In_ my _house? Or like the mean old lady said, on the reservation?_

_“But, Sarah…” Mr. Chief flapped with his lips, like fishes when they were out of the water. “We need to have him where we can keep an eye on him,  just in case. You know this.”_

_“I don’t care.” She was screaming again. I covered my ears but hearded it anyways. “That boy’s father raped_ three dozen women _, William. Three dozen_ that we know of _! The boy even helped lure some of them in.” She gulped and rubbed her hands all over her face. “That poor girl…” she did that crying without tears thing. “ She kept the baby, did you know that?”_

_“Sarah…”_

_“NO! Don’t ‘Sarah’ me. The boy grew up with that monster. It’s all he knows! Promise me he won’t grow up to become exactly like the man who raised him. Promise me, William.”_

_My tummy felt like I had to puke asI waited for Mr. Chief to say something._

_He shook his head, looking really, really sad. “I can’t.”_

_“Then I can’t have him living on the reservation so close to our girls. It’s either him, or us. Choose.”_

_The other ladies mumbled and nodded._

_“We might not have a choice,” Mr. Harry said rumbly, like diggings in dirt or the sand on first beach with all the littlest rocks that hurted your feet if you didn’t have shoes on. “Our tribe has lived in peace for two generations. It would be foolish to expect it to last much longer. The spirits are restless. Something is coming, I can feel it in my bones.”_

_“Fine,” Mrs. Chief spat. “Send him to live in that group home in Port Angeles. He will be close enough to go to school here in La Push where we can have him under watch, but far enough that we don’t have to worry about our daughters.”_

_I wasn’t asked. I wasn’t told. I continued to sit quietly in the corner, hungry and tired._

_The sun shined the next day when the van came and took me away._

 

 

 

*present day*

 

 

The blinking strobes made the dancers look like they were spazzing out. With all the crap being sniffed and snorted you couldn’t really tell the difference. The wolf hated the crowd. I felt him clawing at me, trying to get out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Through the mouth to avoid the stench of sweat, bodily fluids and perfume. Breathe in, breathe out.

The pressure building behind my eyes spread to my temples and the back of my head. My skin felt too tight and my mind was screaming at me to get the hell outta there. I grabbed the hips belonging to the girl in front of me and pulled her to me until I was sure she could feel my hard cock in the crack of her bubbly ass. A quick touch of my lips on her neck and a nibble on her lobe spoke the words I wouldn’t, ‘ _Let’s fuck_.’

She was ringless, and from the way she rubbed up against every dude around I figured she was both boyfriend and hymen-less. I’d checked before going up to her. It was ‘make it or break it’. She’d either go with me, or turn me down. If she hesitated, even for a second, I’d move on to the next warm body. I needed to find somewhere to get my cock wet. Soon, before the spastic scratching, squeaking and beeping of the electronic drum machines fried my nerves to shit.

Raves were hell on my ears with the noise they called music, but noon on Saturdays didn’t leave much choice. Besides, it was the only place they let me in without shirt or shoes.

Trinity was the first club to go legit, and was probably making a shitton of money from it. Gone were the abandon platforms and empty warehouses, the 24 hour dance fests weren’t moving around no more.

The raids stopped, but the dealing didn’t so it wasn’t hard telling where the extra cash went to.

Seattle went from grunge to rave and the every retail store started selling everything from hair gel that glowed under UV lights, to mass produced knockoffs in all neons and metallics of the rainbow and, glow in the dark nippleclamps that looked like bottlecaps. The wannabes multiplied overnight and suddenly everyone was a raver. It was still easy as shit to tell the difference. The smell. The trenders didn’t indulge in chemicals like the party-‘til-ya-drop-ers. They liked to dress the part, showing a lotta skin doing it, but they didn’t wanna act it.

The girl I picked was the first kind, the only kind I paid any mind. If they were high or drunk they couldn’t consent, and I didn’t go where it wasn’t wet and I hadn’t been the one making it rain.

She was a few years older than me, both in age and looks. Dressed in shorts and a tank in glowing pink, green and blue, with purple streaks in her newly bleached hair. She reeked of peroxide **,** too much perfume, and desperation. The wolf didn’t like that at all.

She took her sweet time, but nodded after forever. I double checked to see if she was sure, a hand down my pants confirmed, and with no time to waste I dragged her outside. I’d come there itching for either a fuck or a fight. Both would’ve been best, but one would do.

The alley behind Trinity was fairly clean as far as alleys go **.** The black trash bags were carefully tied together and empty crates were neatly stacked next to the back door. The stench came more from spilled booze and beer than puke and piss. If not for the noise pretending to be musiccutting through layers of wood, plaster, isolation and brick I would’ve feltright at home. I had seen worse, I had lived worse.

The itching under my skin got worser and worser, and the drilling in my head was as bad as, if not worser than. The fucking awful noisecame from inside the club and went straight into my skull.

I pushed her up against the wall, hard enough for her to feel the rough dusty brick scrape her back, to feel how much I wanted to fuck, but loosely enough so she could get away if she wanted to. I made sure she didn’t want to.

She moaned and the smell of her pussy filled the air. I avoided her kisses and pressed my lips to her neck, playing with the zipper to her made-for-easy-access-shorts before pulling it all the way back, baring both holes. The wolf calmed down some.

I didn’t do mouth-to-lips,I didn’t know what had been before me and there was just no way I wanted to walk around with that taste in my mouth. I didn’t stick my tongue in just anything.

With a tug on the collar of her tank her tits filled my hands and then some. Real, a little saggy, not bad. I pinched a nipple, thinking it was enough fucking foreplay. I had places I needed be.

Tiny skin pebbles popped up all over her body from the cold. I spun her around and held her to me, back to chest, to warm her. Using one, two, three fingers I checked if she was ready for me and popped the button on my cutoffs, letting them fall down my ass and thighs.

With my shorts pushed down to my ankles, one hand on her hip and her long hair twisted twice around my wrist, I lined up my cock to her entrance and slammed my hips forward, burying myself inside her soppy pussy in one go.

The first thrusts were jerky and embarrassing, I was distracted. Turned out the girl was as loud as her clothes.

“Oh, yeah, baby! You feel so good inside me!”

_Aw fuck. A talker._ I angled my hips and pounded harder into her soaked snatch to reach deeper. Deeper and deeper, but never deep enough. I chased my release, needing to blow it so I could leave.

“Fuck! Yeah! Ungh! My pussy feel good, baby?”

_Compared to what?_ A pussy was a pussy was a pussy. They felt the same. Either tight or loose, and this was no virgin I was fucking. She’d clearly taken more than one cock in her life. Recently too. And she didn’t even ask me to wear a rubber. Disgusting. I felt the blood rushing from mine back to my brain and picked up the pace. _Harder. Faster. Almost…. There_!

With a hard tug on her hair until she arched her back I hit that spongy spot that drove chicks insane. I shoved a hand between her legs to flick her clit.

“Oh, yeah. That’s it! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. _I’m coming_!”

_Finally_! I felt a weak flutter of her pussymuscles and I pulled out, spraying my jizz all over the small of her back. I wiped the stickiness off my shrinking cock and dried my hand on her tank.

Thanking her with a smack to her jiggly ass, I lifted and refastened my cutoffs. I was done. I had a bonfire to get to.

 

 

 

*

 

 

Hours later it was less alleys, less noises, but no less drunkenness.

Sam and Jared watched their imprints drunkenly stumble around the dying bonfire with dark eyes, reeking of lust. I didn’t need to be inside their heads to know they expected to get some later. Did that make it okay? Fucking someone too drunk to knowed one dick from the other, just ‘cause you dated them?

I looked relaxed, casual even, but anger; oldand familiar burned through me. It wasn’t okay, no matter what they thinked. I grinded my molars to keep myself and the wolf calm. It didn’t really work. It never did. The wolf was too close, itching to get out.

I sat far off from them as usual. The couples and their mating dance, the scorned lover and her fanboying brother, the three dogs who loved to play ‘pin the tail on the donkey’ and hoped to one day triple team anyone with enough holes to fit them all. Everyone stayed away from me **.** It was the way it was supposed to be. The way I liked it.

The ground around me was white with bones. Like snow or a dinner cemetery.

Absentmindedly I chose one and broke it half to use as a toothpick. Not sure which animal. Maybe chicken, could be venison... I knowed it wasn’t hot dog…

It was so easy to ignore the drunken braying from the rest of the pack. Even little Seth had inhaled the rez ‘shine like it was his job. I was the only one not to. Me and the black pile of cloth on the beach.

If it hadn’t been for it moving around I would’ve thinked someone had gone swimming and not come back. It looked like a bunch of clothes piled on up on a chair or a rock, but the scent picked up by the wind said otherwise. Same as the dark hair flying around. It was a girl.

If her sweet musky scent hadn’t told me, or the way the three dogs circled her like vultures, the curves no ‘mount of clothes could hide would’ve proved all.

They could sniff out a female from miles away, and from what they were saying she had been on First beach all day, not moving. From way before I came back from the city and she was sitting there still.

I watched the circle get tighter and tighter, as they worked their way closer and closer until the head asswas right in front of her. It was either swingers or miss and I couldn’t care less which.

With my back to the beach I stared down at the water crashing against the bottom of the cliffs. The wolf clawed at my insides, pushing to come out and play but the leash Sam had put on him still held.

The girl was all but forgotten when the wind carried words in a voice like sand running through your sticky fingers. “What’s that? Toilet water? I'll pass, thanks.” But I had a feeling that was the only thing sweet about her.

I almost choked on the bone sticking out of my mouth.I had never heard someone speak like that to the terrible threes before **,** at least not a girl. Leah didn’t count, not really.

It made me get to my feet and stretch my neck, trying to see what was going on, to see if I could find out who she was.

Curiosity forced me to leave my spot at the edge of the cliff and take a step closer to the beach. Two steps. Three steps. Not too close, but just to hear them better, to see them better.

I didn’t see the worried looks jump between me and the foursome down on the beach. I didn’t care. I just wanted to know more, see more, hear more. For once the wolf agreed and kept quiet.

The words and voices came and went over the sound of wind and crashing waves. High and low, broken and whole, but two things were clear: she wasn’t interested and Jake wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Faster, I needed to get down there before something happened, before it was too late. I didn’t know what ‘too late’ meant, just that it couldn’t happen.

Eight steps. Nine steps. Faster, but not fast enough. Jake reached out for her and the screams started as soon as his hand touched her skin. The sound was so filled with so much agony, I felt it all the way into my bones. My knees buckled when my eyes landed on her face and I saw her lips pressed together. No sound left those lips but I could still hear her pain. It took everything in me to not phase and let the wolf take me there faster than my legs could.

I ran the last few steps. Twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty. The wolf growled through me, making me sound even more animal-like. I was on him before the others could stop me. I grabbed the hand that grabbed the girl and I didn’t stop squeezing until I felt bones crunch beneath my fingers.

 

**A/N:** I taught myself to speak and understand English by watching un’subbed Saved by the bell one year before I was to learn it in school and had a full conversation with two Englishmen that summer. You learn a lot from watching TV and even if the chapter doesn’t say so that’s pretty much how Paul learned English. By watching TV and listening to others, and although he was able to go to school after his dad got arrested other things kept him from really learning.

 

* **Anne’s school of English words in Swedish; lesson seven:** Get means goat. But it’s pronounced more like … I have no clue how to explain it. The best way is I can come up with is gEt

 

* Consent can be tricky even though it shouldn’t be. But know that you always have the right to say no, and that someone under the influence is (technically) unable to consent to anything. I’m not going to rant about this, because I have problem stopping.. Just….always use condoms, unless you’re Paul. He’s special like that

 

* Trinity is an actual nightclub in Seattle. It came up when I searched (yes, I actually did some research, I’m as chocked as you are) for rave clubs. Not sure if it is a rave club or not, I only used the name

 


	8. Chapter 8

**All recognizable characters belong to S.M. She would never treat them this way.**

 

**Beta: hannah_perry85**

 

 **A/N:** And sorry about not adding a trigger warning on the last chapter. From now on, if there’s a flashback assume there’s a trigger warning. I will try to remember adding them, but I might forget again. I should probably add that the will be character deaths in this fic… yeah.

 

Sometimes I get the feeling I’ve already written something. Sorry if I have

 

And thank you for your patients. You are clearly better people than I am

 

 **Possible trigger warning:** A short flashback at the end

 

 

Chapter song: Nightmares - Ed Sheeran

Into The Nothing - Breaking Benjamin

 

 

_~~_

 

_the difference between_

_you and me_

_is that_

_when you wake up,_

_your nightmare ends_

_~Unknown_

 

Chapter 7

 

 

 

 

 

_**_

 

_I’m floating._

_Hovering up high, just below the dark and dank ceiling._

_We’re out of time._

_My voice is long gone._

_The whispered warnings unheard, unanswered._

_Silence._

_The body,_ my _body, sleeps_

_The Beast paces._

_My body sleeps._

_Back and forth. Back and forth._

_My body sleeps._

_The Beast’s teeth sink into pale flesh._

_Ripping, tearing._

_Blood dripping…splashing._

_Each drop, as it lands on the floor._

_Drip, plop, splash, drip, plop, splash._

_My body twitches and jerks as the Beast takes bite after bite._

_Rivulets of blood spills on the concrete._

_My skin melts away under pools of acid drool._

_I squeeze my eyes shut, but I see clearly through closed lids._

_Heavy paws and clicking claws against stone steps breaks the silence._

_I use my last breath to shout a final warning._

Run! The Monster is coming!

_Silence._

_No more whispers. Nothing to hear._

_The Beast backs away._

_Slowly. Carefully._

_Giving up its place next to my body._

_I feel it before I see it._

_I’m still floating._

_Hovering up high, just below the dark and dank ceiling,_

_where I watch the Monster rip my heart out._

 

Izzy

 

Previously on Tarnished

 

_The standardized ringtone woke me up at five am. Saturday morning._

_Still mostly asleep I fumbled on the dresser after my phone and pushed the little green button without looking at the display. “Fuck Scar, you gotta stop waking me up every morning. I’m a grown woman. I can deal with some nightmares.”_

_“_ You have nightmares?” _a vaguely familiar voice spoke into my ear._

_Icicles ran up my spine. “Who is this?”_

.

.

.

That voice; too soft, too smooth, too perfect, could only come from one of nine. I recognized it, which ruled out Dr. and Mrs. Kevorkian, Scar too, since the number was unknown.

The voice was male; kicking Squeaky, Amazon Barbie, Bitchzilla and Leonard off the list. Bob had no reason to dial me up at all, even less at this ungodly hour, so that left me with Fruity. _Joy._ I needed to get those two silly kids back together so I could get some fucking sleep. “How the fuck did you get this number?”

“ _I climbed through your father’s window and stole it from his phone.”_ His lack of remorse was refreshingly honest, even if it pissed me off still.

My grip tightened, just for a second, but when I almost accidentally on purpose flipped the phone shut I forced my hand to loosen its hold. “What part of ‘no pulse, no heartbeat, no entrance’ did you not understand?” I gritted, “Too complicated for ya?” My lack of sleep did nothing to brighten my morning mood, and I had to press my lips together to keep from saying something Scarlet would make me regret. _You do not want to anger the nice bloodsucker…yet_. But it was Saturday for fucks sake. You’d think they had spent enough time around the living to know we liked to sleep in on the weekends. And what the actual fuck was up with vampires not letting me sleep. Was it jealousy? They couldn’t, so neither could I? Bloodsuckers are mouth fuckers. I took the phone from my ear and stuck my tongue out at it.

“ _That was your room. It didn’t say anything about the rest of the house.”_

What the hell did Scar see in this guy? Did he have blood-flavored nipples? No one likes smartasses, Smartass. It was too fucking early to be arguing semantics. “What do you want?”

If silence made sounds, this would say: Dun-dun-duun. “ _Alice had a vision.”_

I rolled my eyes and yawned. Of course she did. “So?”

“ _A group of nomads will be passing through the area sometime in the next few hours_.”

“Oh-kay?” I hadn’t expected that. Thumper using her powers for bad, as in tricking me into going shopping, yes. Thumper using her powers for good, as in warning me I was about to become somebody's snack, no. A smile spread over my lips and I felt nothing but calm. “I better get my affairs in order then.”

“ _Alice didn’t see them attacking you, or coming anywhere near you.”_

My brows did a hidey-ho beneath my hairline. “What the fuck?” I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood. I just wanted to scream. “There’s nothing to worry about? So why the early wakeup call if everything is fucking fine?”

“ _Her visions are based on decisions and people, even vampires change their minds all the time. By then it could be too late_.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” I grumbled.

“ _I hear La Push is nice this time of year_ ,” he said almost out of the blue-like and my what-the-fuck-meter went through the roof. “ _You should visit the beach today. Leave early. Make a weekend of it_.”

I narrowed my eyes, and kicked my feet free of the comforter. The polished wood was freezing underneath the soles of my feet. I dragged myself across my room to unlock the door while waiting for him to continue. “Explain please, or I’m hanging up. I need to pee.”

“ _The sun will be out_ ,” like the latest weather report would be enough of an explanation

Yeah, no.

I was about to close my phone, the clues falling into place, one by one. Visions, nomads, sunshine, La Push. Oh-ho. “Tell me this Fruity, why would your waif care what I do with my weekend?”

“ _My wife is empathic and compassionate. She cares about her fellow man. Alice loves every living creature as if they were her own. Nobody has as big a heart as her_.” He couldn’t have sounded more as if he read from a script if he tried.

It all made so much more sense. “She doesn’t know you called me.” It wasn’t a question.

“ _No_.”

I waited for him to continue. And I waited, and I waited and I waited. The seconds turned into minutes which turned into infinity and there was just so much anyone could take. “For the love of fuck, Fruity. Use your words.” I hitched my shoulder to hold the phone to my chin and pulled on the string on my pj’s. I wiggled the pants down my hips and thighs and sent them towards the hamper with a kick.

Scar picked a real winner in this one. Just the thought of more conversational tug-of-war made me want to end the call and go back to bed, but I had to admit he piqued my curiosity. Why did he have to hide the call from the tiny terrorist? Was there trouble in hell? Enquiring minds wanna know, and all. 

With no concerns for my near-nakedness I walked up to my window and I pressed my forehead against it. My breath fogged the glass when I released a heavy sigh, “Okay, but why make this call? Why not let nature take its course and what not?”

The next quiet time was shorter, but long enough to make my eye twitch. “ _I…don’t know_.”

Honesty, even when it left me with more questions than answers, I could work with, “Fair enough.” I decided to try another angle. “So why La Push?” Vague memories of cutting my bare foot on a rocky seaweed covered beach, stabbing myself with fish hooks and falling into tide pools came to mind. I remembered hating every second, but pretended to like it for Charlie’s sake.

“ _We have an…understanding of sorts with the tribe leaders there, a treaty if you may…_ ” Frosty hesitated and I groaned aloud.

The digital clock glowed six am. We had been on the phone for an hour, a whole fucking hour, and where had it gotten me? A big, fat nowhere. If he kept this up I’d be hitting old age before getting somewhere, and that wasn’t part of the plan.

I had just pulled the tank over my head, and of course managed to snag the straps on my ears, making me miss half of it. “ _As long as we don’t…any humans, and… they won’t…or...the humans_ …”

Just…sigh. “Uh-hu.”

“ _No vampire will step foot there, the odor alone keeps them away_ ,” his chuckle sounded forced. Or, not as much forced as foreign, like he didn’t do it often. 

The sometimes nauseating mix of baby powder and old lady doesn’t exactly sell bottles, Pepe. There was a sorta sickly sweetness to it, kinda like how you’d think Pepto-Bismol smelled. According to Scar it worked to attract prey. Which only proved that the world was full of people without a functioning sense of smell. I dropped my tank on top of my pj pants and threw on my fuzzy formerly-known-as-purple-but-now-more-grey-looking robe and moseyed over to the bathroom to pre-scorch the shower to wash away last night’s dream-sweat. Just for the questionable fun of it I considered taking a piss and listening as he squirmed, but I was too mature for that.

Truly.

Honestly.

Yeah, okay. So I just didn’t want him to listen while I peed. Gross. I returned to my room instead.

While I waited, yet again I tried to tell myself that the only reason I hadn’t hung up on Fruity was because I felt some sort of misplaced sense of loyalty towards Scar. Because I couldn’t come up with any other reason I waited an infinity and beyond for something I really didn’t give a fuck about.

“ _I can’t protect you if I’m trapped by the sun and forced to remain in the shadows_.”

Woah, where the fuck did that come from? “I don’t need your protection, Jasper Whitlock!” Alarms went off in my head. Warning! Warning! Warning! 

Well fuck me sideways. I crossed my fingers in hope that the color of Fruity’s hair affected his intelligence. Of course there were no such luck.

“ _Why would you call me Whitlock?_ ” he asked suspiciously, “ _My name is Hale_.”

“Yes, of course. My bad,” I forced what I hoped would be a brainless giggle, but it sounded more like a slightly hysterical pig. “A weekend in La Push… I can definitely do that… We’ll talk…or not....” more hysterical giggles and oinking. “Gotta go. Kthxbai.” I flipped my phone shut, placed it underneath my pillow and parked my ass on top of it. “I wonder if I'll be held responsible for this?”

 

***

 

 

From the looks of it First beach was everything I didn’t remember. Pebbles, sharpened to tiny arrowheads against the grainy and rough sand, which wasn’t at all dry and light, running through my fingers like… _sand_ was supposed to. It was heavy and wet, and dropped from my palm in thick chunks like mud…or dog shit. Which, when you thought about it, made a shit ton of sense and thoroughly grossed me out when I imagined that I sat on a beach made up entirely of dog shit.

 _Lovely_.

When I spied a munchkin chowing down on a fistful of sand I almost lost my breakfast. My eyes didn’t need to wander long before they landed on some bitch who looked like she had her phone perma-glued to her ear. I would bet half my bank account that the bottle she slurped from like it was her fucking job – which from the looks of her it probably was – contained something a hell of a lot stronger than water.

Ugh.

Yeah, I had issues with parents who didn’t give two fucks what their spawn where up to, so sue me.

Watching a bunch of idiots pretend to enjoy the frigid water got old really fast. The so called sun left much to be desired. Sure, it was out and proud unlike some people, but I couldn’t tell if it was trying to hide under a bushel or if Satan tried to blow it out because someone wasn’t letting this little light of …whoever shine as strongly as I expected. The yellow summer sun was already shifting into her much paler winter cousin, and it was just the first week of September. The cold wind coming in from the ocean bit through three layers of clothing.

As the white orb moved across the sky with the passing of the day the munchkins and their handlers took off one by one, and before long I was the only one left.

You could hear an orchestra of crashing waves and whistling winds conducted by a baton of driftwood and seaweed with the absence of voices bouncing against fallen trees building, building, building until it exploded in a crescendo of sound which slowed to an almost stop before starting up again on the next climb. I let the mask drop, and it felt good to not have to hide behind it even if just for a minute. You’d think I was used to putting up a front of indifference, but no. Who would have thought showing and essentially doing _nothing_ would be so draining?

But it was different at the reservation. No one knew me, or had opinions about how I should or shouldn’t act. It was relaxing almost, which was exactly what I needed after the morning I had.

Starting with the weirdest call ever from Frosty the Whitlock, then there was the awkward convo with Scar, yeah, not going back to than one, and the cherry on top came when Charlie decided he had anything to do with how I spent my time.

_He stopped me as I was on my way out, “Where are you going?”_

_I shot him a look in the mirror that hung next to the front door. “Out.”_

_“Out?” he grunted. “It’s only 8 am. Where are you going?”_

_“Out,” I stepped into my black Vans Tnt Sg and grabbed my raincoat, because this was still Forks and sunny didn’t mean shit._

_“Whe…” he cleared his throat and mumbled something into his thick mustache. “Okay, just be home by eleven.”_

_“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes and pushed open the door only to be stopped by his hand on my shoulder. I spun around on my heel and shot him a glare. “Take your fucking hands off me!”_

With a heavy sigh I pulled my chunky oversized hoodie over my knees. It wasn’t even hand to skin, but the second he touched me I was back in that basement; just waiting for the monster to come down those stairs to finish me off. It was too much. My head felt too big, and my skin too tight. My cheek throbbed and I could feel the scar tissue tearing, being ripped open again. “It’s all in your mind, it’s not real.” I whispered over and over, hoping that if I said it enough times I’d end up believing it.

I spent the rest of the afternoon slipping in and out of consciousness. Since arriving in Forks a month or so ago I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours in one go, and what little I’d had was restless and full of nightmares.

Lulled by the sound of waves lapping the shore I managed to sneak in a few minutes of dreamless sleep and the next time I opened my eyes the sun had disappeared into the horizon, and the only source of light came from the moon and the bonfire perched on the cliff overlooking First beach.

The wind carried with it the smell of barbecue to my little corner on the other side of the beach, turning my empty stomach. I hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, and I was feeling it.

Besides the half-nauseating, half-mouthwatering scents the group kept to themselves and didn’t bother me until someone brought out an ancient sounding boom box and the wobbly sound of too much bass through cracked speakers disturbed the quiet.

It was annoying, but I knew that if I ignored them hard enough it could be as if they didn’t exist. It had worked well enough in Phoenix, but that might have more to do with the booze and drugs.

My black, baggy cargo pants was damp in the ass from sitting on the sand all day, and the wet, salty air had soaked through my hoodie and button down, all the way into my top.

Later, around ten or eleven pm. I had to admit that spending the night wasn’t an option. I was cold, and tired. It was time to go back to Charlie’s, or at least get into the truck where I’d be dry.

But when I tried to push myself up I just ended up back on my ass. The lack of sleep and having missed the last three or four meals was wearing on me. I was fucking exhausted.

I gave it another try and when I got the same result I gave up and decided to just stay where I was. Wouldn’t be the first time I spent the night outside.

I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my cheek against them. Black spots or not, I couldn’t stop staring into the fire, and although my eyes were half open and blurry I noticed movements in the periphery when three of the partiers left the herd.  They took their time, and split up about halfway down, circling me like vultures.

Tension started in my neck and spread throughout my body with every nerve ending screaming at me to go into fight or flight mode, but I hadn’t been the ‘flight’ type in years. 

I went with neither. Just parked it and waited, letting the mask slip back into place.

The closer they got, the more details I noticed, their builds, their drunken swagger and creepy laughter, the fact that they were only wearing shorts… _way to be conspicuous. Morons_. But not enough to I.D them in a line up. They kinda looked like a mix between the Hulk’s russet, slightly smaller brothers and female shot-putters. _I’m sure they are pretty on the inside_. I snickered tiredly.

They descended quicker than I had expected and before I had time to do much more than mentally mock they were on top of me. Not literally, thank fuck, but bad enough.

“Hi, girl,” one of the boneheads crooned. “How about some company.” 

“No thanks,” I mumbled and pretended to close my eyes, hoping they’d leave me alone. I didn’t bet on it being enough, but a girl could dream. 

“Don’t be like that, Sweetheart,” the second of Boyz on the Rez slurred. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

I rolled my eyes behind my half closed lids. _Shitsforbrains_. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Bells? Is that you?”

 _Huh?_ How the hell did one of the dog boys knew who I was? I had my hood up, my hair down, and my face against my knees. _Damn_ , the rumors were true. I hadn’t doubted Scar… much. But come on, stories about boys turning into wolves… Can’t blame me for being skeptical.

I looked at him through narrowed eyes, but nothing about the mutt looked familiar, only stupid. the way he stared intently back at me. I figured if I didn’t know who he was the same applied to him about moi. “Nope, sorry. You’re barking up the wrong tree there, Sparky.” His expression changed to one of displeasure. Meh, I was nothing if not polite.

Shitforbrains chortled. “Good one.”

 _Idiot_.

“Shut up, Quil,” Sparky barked.

_Yes, shut up, Quil._

Sparky turned back to me. “I know it’s you, Bells. Your dad said you were back,” I still had trouble seeing his expression clearly, but he sounded excited and chipper. Like a goddamn puppy. “It’s me, Jake. Jacob Black. You remember, don’t you?”

I searched my memory bank, there was a lot of shit crammed in there, but no Jacob Black. “Sorry, doesn’t ring any _bells_.”

The third guy gnawed on what looked like a chicken leg. He actually looked like he had half a brain, or at least a third of one. He had these really long, thick lashes that made him look kinda pretty… Like a girl.

At least until he gave me a dude nod so hard he almost toppled backwards. “S’up?”

_Meathead._

Sparky smacked Meaty over the head and turned to me wearing a ten-thousand-watt smile. Yeah that hurt. “Come on, I know you remember me. Little Jakey Black. You used to play with my sisters.”

He just wouldn’t let go. He was like a dog with a bone. I bit my lip to keep from laughing in his face. I could go on all night.

Quil shoved a red solo cup in my face, it reeked of badly distilled moonshine. “Want a drink?”

“What’s that?” I quirked a brow. Toilet water? I'll pass, thanks.” The stench of alcohol pushed bile up my throat. ‘All night’ was over; time to leave. “I’m gonna go.”

Sparky took a step closer, and I had to fight not to flinch back. “Come one, don’t leave. Hang with us.”

“Fuck off.” I got to my feet and brushed the sand off my ass. I felt three pair of eyes follow my every move. _Pervs_.

Sparky frowned and any sign of the sunshine smile was ghost. “What’s your problem?”

Anger I could handle.

I pushed back my hoodie and shook out my hair behind my back. After making sure not a single strand covered the left side of my face I turned to look them dead in the eye. Meathead and Quil had the normal reaction for someone who saw my scars for the first time, and I made sure they got a good look at them. Sparky wasn’t as smart.

“No one cares about that,” he dismissed my marred skin.

What a fucking sweetheart, right? Maybe if his peepers hadn’t been glued somewhere lower than my face. He licked his lips and I shuddered.

 _Never again_ , I promised and cleared my throat to make sure it wouldn’t waver. “Look, Sparky, I don’t know what kinda twisted fantasy world you conjured up in that cro magnon skull of yours, but I don’t know who the hell you are so kindly get the fuck outta my way so I can leave.”

When he reached out for me it seemed as if he moved in slow motion. I saw his hand coming long before he touched me and could have gotten away several times over. That was how it looked, but in reality everything happened in a matter of seconds.

My head started spinning the moment his fingers wrapped around my wrist just like a steel cuff. I was sure I was going to throw up, but by some miracle I managed not to. I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached. “Getting off to made up memories is one thing,” I spat at his feet, disgusted. “But that does _not_ give you the fucking right to touch me.”

Quil and Meathead watched us with rapt fascination, while gulping down their paint thinner.

“What happened to you, Bells?” He tried to soften me up with sad puppy eyes, but there was nothing soft about the way his grip tightened when I tugged to get free. **“** You used to be such a sweet girl.”

"I grew up. You should try it." I tugged on my arm again.

The sleeve of my hoodie was pulled from under his grip, and his skin touched mine.

I screamed.

Blood curled and eardrums vibrated, but Sparky’s expression never changed. When I tasted copper from biting the inside of my cheek until I bled into my mouth I realized the it was all in my head. There was no scream, no sound, I never even opened my mouth. It was all I my head. _It’s not real_. I tried to breathe through the panic. In. Out. In. Out. _It’s not real_.

I heard an animal growl in the not so distance and from the look of the three assholes faces I didn’t imagine _that._ Sparky didn’t say a word, but his expression changed and had ‘ _Oh shit’_ written all over it. I almost smiled.

There wasn’t much that could scare me anymore, I figured I’d could take whatever nature wanted to throw at me, and if I couldn’t…Oh well.

Sparky dropped my hand as if I burned him and pain twisted his features as Animal turned the tables on him. I just watched, oddly fascinated, as his fingers broke under the pressure of the newcomer’s hand.

“ _Paul_!” a deep timbre came from a little ways away and before I knew it the beach had gotten awfully crowded.

 _‘And the fun just keeps on leaving_.’

Whatever was in the new dude’s voice had an immediate effect on Animal, and he stopped what squeezing and let go of Sparky’s hand. But even though he backed away and lowered his head, his posture didn’t have anything submissive about it. There was something tangible about the tension that surrounded him and I almost pitied Sparky when newbie’s juju wore off. Almost. 

The night was ruined for everyone, meaning my work was done and it was time to leave.

“What the hell is going on here?!” his voice thundered, and it sounded as if he expected answers.

 _Guess I’m staying_.

Good thing they weren’t interrogated for an actual crime, because the three nitwits cracked like an eggshell.

“Nothing, Sam,” Meathead hurriedly bullshitted. “We were just talking.”

Animal disagree with a snarl, but didn’t contribute.

“Yeah,” Quil nodded eagerly. “She’s Jake’s girl.”

The lie had _me_ snarling. I didn’t sound as threatening as Animal, but I thought I held my own.

“We were just talking,” Sparky just didn’t know when to shut up. And then _he_ ,” the word contained both hatred and…huh, was that fear? “came, wanting to start a fight.”

 “Is that true, Paul?” newbie – Sam, was it? – asked.

Animal grunted and growled, and apparently that means something to his friend, because Sam hummed understandingly and turned to me next.

Ignoring him I looked at strong and silent. I preferred to think of him as Animal, the name Paul was far too tame and didn’t fit him at all.

Although he stood a few feet away and seemed to be an inch or two shorter than Sparky, Animal seemed to towered over him. There was something familiar over him, but I couldn’t tell what it was until I met his eyes. Anger, hate, misery. I knew that look. His eyes mirrored my own and I wanted to know what his voice sounded like.

“They were pushing their luck, and your boy stepped in,” I answered his unasked question. “He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Bells, how can you say that?” Sparky whined pathetically, “We used to be friends.”

“You keep saying that, but the only thing I have to show for it is a bruised fucking wrist,” I pulled down my sleeve to show the reddened skin it the shape of his fingers. I spat on the ground by his toes again. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“You heard her, Jake,” Sam folded his tree trunk arms over his chest, calmly expecting to be obeyed. 

“But, but…” Sparky sputtered and stuttered.

“She’s not your imprint,” Sam shrugged, “and even if she were she’d have every right to tell you to stay away from her.”

It was clearly non-negotiable. Sam seemed to be a non-nonsense kinda guy. I liked that.  

“What about _him_?”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” I was so done with this day.

“ _Paul_ isn’t the one in question here,” I wasn’t the only one sick of Sparky’s shit, “and as far as I’m concerned he can be around her as much as he wants. Unless she tells me differently.”

Sparky looked like he had more to say, but I wasn’t interested. With a last glance at Animal I mouthed my good bye and started off towards my truck.

Sam caught up with me half way. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

I froze, but shook it off and continued onward. _I'm not._

 

***

 

Bella

(approximately 6 years ago)

_Two flashbacks in one_

_The italics she’s with Phil_

The other she’s with Renee

_The studios air-condition blasted out cold air, covering the part of my skin that wasn’t hidden by my pink sundress in goosebumps. I felt Phil’s eyes on me through the camera lens, and I went from paling, to flushing a deep red, then back again under his heavy stare._

_I’d been down there with him for hours; in countless poses and countless outfits, I had long since lost count of how many._

_I tried following his direction as best as I could and moving my tired and aching limbs in whatever position he wanted me in., anything to keep him from coming over and doing it himself. Just the thought of his hands on me made me nauseous._

Mom sat in front of her vanity, applying makeup with the vacant look in her eyes I had come to expect in the past months. The last bit of familiarity, her scent; a mixture of paint, clay, flowers and herbs had been exchanged for eau de chardonnay.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pajama pants and cleared my throat, “Mom, can I talk to you?”

“What have I told you about calling me that?” she reprimanded me in a bored voice.

I swallowed loudly, and tried again, “Renee, can we talk? It’s about Ph…It’s about daddy.”

_Maybe, if I could pretend that it happened to someone else, anyone else it wouldn’t be so bad? I could pretend that it wasn’t me he was looking at and licking his lips, I could pretend that the clothes he laid out for me didn’t get smaller and smaller. I could pretend… I could pretend that I actually wanted to be there._

“I think…I mean…I don’t want him to take my picture.” I didn’t know why it was so hard. It didn’t matter what I called her, or what she looked or smelled like, she was still my mom and only wanted what was best for me.

“I don’t understand how you can be so ungrateful, Bella,” her eyes remained emotionless despite the harsh words. “Do you know how much people are willing to pay for what you get for free?”

_“Hands on your knees, arms straight, bend at the waist,” he panted thickly. “Yeah, thaaaat’s it. Good girl, Isabella.”_

_He adjusted his pants and stared down my dress, right at the small bumps hidden there. “Turn left to your left. Blow me a kiss over your shoulder Bite your lip. Pout. Smile. Yessss. Good girl, Isabella.”_

“And also…someone came into my bathroom when I was showering,” I took a deep breath. “I think it was…daddy.” My stomach churned and I felt like I was going to get sick, but I had to. I had to trust that my Mom would believe me. That she would help me.

This made her react and she spun around on her chair, shooting fiery daggers at me with her eyes. “How dare you!?” Saliva flew from her mouth. I have read about this; kids acting out, making up stories to get attention. I expected better from you, Bella.”

“No, Mom…”

“I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

_Phil put away his camera and I relaxed, just a little, hoping he was done and I could back to my room._

_He stepped closer and fingered the strap of my dress. His eyes where darker than normal and his voice dark and thick. “How about for the next set we lose the dress altogether?”_

 

 

 **A/N:** Next chapter I’m revealing Scar’s gender, so anyone who hadn’t figured out the identity will probably do it then.

 

 

 

*** Anne's school of the meaning of English words in Swedish; lesson eight: Dog means died. Pronounced something like doog.**

 

**\-----------------------**

 

  * Patrick Verona; What is it with this chick? She have beer-flavored nipples? 



_10 things I hate about you_

 

 

Dr. Jack Kevorkian aka Dr. Death. Is most known for assisting in the suicide of over 100 patients

 

 **Mouth** : Right. Look if you wanna get on my good side...and you do, stop kissing Brooke! Don't even look at Rachel! And don't move here, ‘cause nobody likes new guys, New guy.

-One tree hill season 4 episode 3

 

Buzz Lightyear of Star Command, as well as the two film sequels. His often repeated catchphrase is "To infinity... and beyond!"

 

“I wonder if I'll be held responsible for this” – Lucas, Empire Records

 

*Reference to the lyrics of “This little light of mine”

 

*Izzy is NOT making fun of Female athletes from Russian. She’s calling Jake, Quil and Embry girls, in a roundabout way. There is a difference. 

 

* Boyz on the Rez – Boyz n the hood

 

* Xander: A *crazy* hellgod? And the fun just keeps on leaving!

 


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